


Love is Blind

by nescamonster



Series: Nescamonster does stuff [7]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Amputation, Amputee!Jeremy, Angst, Blind!Ryan, Cutting, Established Relationship, F/M, Homophobic Slurs, Implied/ Referenced Suicidal thoughts, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-02-12 09:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12956727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nescamonster/pseuds/nescamonster
Summary: Jeremy and Ryan were happily married, the Vagabond and his Monster truck, The Monster truck and his Vagabond.But then they were captured by a Rival gang and held for a long time, tortured...Can their relationship survive if their bodies didn't?Not completely anyway





	1. Love is Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Bara-Kick at tumblr broke my damn heart with this beautiful art  
> Consider it the cover page for this fic  
> https://bara-kick.tumblr.com/post/168348470900/love-is-blind-by-nescamonster-love-also-hurts

Ryan fumbled with his drink, trying to pour the coke into a glass and missing. As cold liquid splashed over his hand, he cursed and pulled his hand back, the glass tipping and falling onto the floor, shattering into pieces. Jeremy leaped up, coming towards his husband, his footsteps tipping him off. Ryan turned, putting out a hand to the lad, his scared white eyes rolling, trying to find him in the black of Ryan's world.

“NO! I got it!” He snapped, and felt his way to the cupboard, Jeremy pausing and clenching his fists, wanting to help but Ryan was determined. Ryan managed to feel his way to the dustpan and brush, taking out and turning back. Jeremy couldn’t hold his tongue.

“Rye-” he tried to warn, but Ryan cut him off with a near snarl.

“I know what I'm doing!” he told Jeremy firmly only to misjudge the distance and putting the pad of his foot in the glass shards. The sharp pain was unexpected, and Ryan shouted and fell back onto his ass, blindly grabbing his foot which started to bleed. Screw his pride, Jeremy leaped to work.

He snatched up the brush Ryan had dropped and quickly swept the glass up and aside so Ryan couldn’t hurt himself then grabbed the first aid kit before he sunk beside Ryan who had been rocking over his foot. They had taken his sight but not his tears.

“I’m useless.” he moaned to Jeremy.

“No Ryan, you're not. You just gotta relearn your limits that's all pal. Here, let me have your foot.” Ryan relinquished it, hugging his other knee and wincing with each piece of glass Jeremy gently plucked out of his skin.

“What limits? I can’t navigate the kitchen let alone a heist.” Ryan pointed out morose, “The Vagabond is dead.”

“But you aren’t. And I married Ryan Haywood.” Jeremy said full of quiet optimism against Ryan's crushing depression no matter how much further he got from the torture room they had been held.

“Please… We are hardly married anymore.” Ryan said softly, and Jeremy paused for only a moment so he could glance at Ryan's helpless face. Jeremy's heart squeezed, but he forced himself to go back to pulling the last bits of glass and wiping away the blood.

“We are Ryan. I love you.” Jeremy said sincerely, and Ryan's disbelieving snort hurt. As did the tearful words that followed.

“Love me? You barely touch me. You can’t stand looking into my eyes. I feel how stiffly you stand. How you stomp wherever you go in the apartment.” Ryans voice trembled with hurt, Jeremy holding hard to his control not to break it, “You weren’t even there for the first three months we were rescued. Jack told me you were in no condition to see me, but you came out fine didn’t you? I was blinded for you, and you couldn’t even see me?!”

Ryans accusations hurt and Jeremy breaths hitched in a sob as he wrapped the gent's foot. Ryan laughed wet and cold.

“Oh please don’t pretend you suddenly care. The only reason you're still here is that you feel responsible.”

“Ryan please...” Jeremy begged him, for what he didn’t know but Ryan drew himself up now his foot was tended to, unseeing eyes seeing through the lad.

“I’m going to bed. I assume you're taking the sofa again?” It wasn’t really a question, Ryan limping blindly away, hand out to catch the railing of the stairs to the bedroom floor. Jeremy watched him go, eyes spilling over with tears, Ryan’s blood still on his hands. He sat in the shattered remains of glass and a relationship.

He pressed his shaking hands to his face, smelling the copper of Ryan's blood along with the sweet of diet coke and let misery roll over him. How was he meant to fix this? Jeremy couldn’t go up the stairs, couldn’t bring himself to get in next to Ryan, to curl around him like they had every night before their captivity. There was no way he could hurt Ryan worse than he was already hurt.

Resolve stiffened again, Jeremy got up with a groan, using the bench and the strength of his arms and shoulders to get his leg underneath him. The prosthetic was still rough learning, and it made just under his knee ache. But he stomped over to the sofa and collapsed onto it. 

He couldn’t let Ryan know he’d traded his leg, his livelihood, his ability of movement for them to back off Ryan's torture, to buy the gent time. If Ryan believed now Jeremy was only here because he owed Ryan, how would he feel if he knew the lengths Jeremy had gone to make the pain stop for his love?

Jeremy would never tell Ryan about his leg.

Ever.

  
  


_ “PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!” Jeremy shrieked, convulsing in his bindings, hearing Ryan scream and unable to see what they were doing. Karlos, the Vagos in charge of Jeremy torture put his face in Jeremy's. _

_ “We’ll stop when you tell us where your shipments are coming in. Until then, I'm gonna keep on burning.” He grinned and ducked out of sight again, setting Jeremy's back a fire once more.  _

_ “NOT ME! VAGA!” Jeremy bellowed, he couldn’t care less for the slow roasting of his back, only that across the room they were laughing, and Ryan was screaming and Jeremy could do nothing. Karlos came in front of him again, the little blowtorch he had been using in hand. _

_ “You want us to stop hurting Vagabond? Tell us the shipment.” _

_ “I can’t I can’t! Anything! I’ll give anything but that please!” Jeremy begged him. He could feel his ring on his finger still, a huge promise to protect each other. Vagabond had volunteered to go first in the chair, Karlos here only playing until it was Jeremy's turn. _

_ “Anything? You’d give him a leg?” Karlos grinned. Jeremy had thought the question metaphorical, and when he realized it wasn’t, he kept his mouth shut. They had to move him to a cot, and all Jeremy could see was a sobbing and broken Ryan, head lolled forward, blood dripping from his face. No, Jeremy didn’t say a damn word to stop them, even as they began to saw. _

 

Geoff knocked on the door across from the penthouse, Ryan and Jeremy's residence. He could hear the thunk of Jeremy limping to the door, opening it for the boss. Geoff fixed a smile on his face even though his stomach twisted with guilt and sorrow like it did every time he saw Jeremy's face.

The lad would permanently have a scar over the bridge of his nose, and his eyes were heavy and dark with sleep. Behind him, Geoff could see Ryan, his dark pajamas shirt on backward so even though his back was to the door, feeling through the fridge, Geoff could see the skull design.

“Jack cooked breakfast. You're invited over.” Geoff said then he pointed to Ryan, “Ryan, your shirts on backward.”

Jeremy hissed, his eyes closing and a hand pressed to his forehead as Ryan jumped and spun around, milk splattering as he tried to see uselessly.

“Geoff?!” he asked panicked, and Geoff cursed himself an idiot. Jeremy glared at him as he took two steps into the apartment.

“Yeah, fuck, it's me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Geoff said gently. He should have remembered Ryan would be easily scared. He was blind and recovering from torture, and here was Geoff just yelling at him from a distance like a moron.

“My shirts on backward?” Ryan ignored the apology, his face turning hard in anger, “JEREMY!” he yelled unsure where his husband was but furious.

“Here Ryan,” Jeremy said, limping towards the gent, shutting the front door and passing Geoff. Jeremy was in shorts, and his fake leg seemed ridiculously eye drawing, a white plastic piece attached to the remains of a calf and ending in a metal piece that looked nothing like a human foot. 

Geoff blinked back tears to see it, watching how Jeremy couldn’t control how much weight goes on it, wincing as he stomped towards Ryan, using the wall as a steadier. Geoff knew that though they got back their crew, perhaps more was left behind in that blood slicked room than a leg and eyesight.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had my shirt on backward?”

“It didn’t seem important Ryan.”

“Not important?! What, you want me to look like an idiot!”

Jeremy flinched like Ryan was beating him, ducking his head, Ryan was feeling the air in front of him, and finally found Jeremy's shoulder, fisting the material there. Geoff stepped up wanting to stop the fight before it got out of hand.

“No Ryan, it's not like that-”

“You think it’s funny don’t you?!”

“No! I would never-”

“Oh yeah, let's trick the blind guy, what fun! Let him walk about thinking he looks fine but no, he's the IDIOT with the BACKWARD SHIRT!”

“Ryan!” Geoff called, stepping up and putting a hand on Ryan's shoulder only to reel back into the sink as Ryan instinctively hit him, punch only slightly off, grazing over cheek rather than breaking nose. Jeremy cried out too, and Ryan let him go, putting his back to the middle bench, blinking blindly in Geoff's direction, a horrified expression.

“Geoff!” Jeremy turned to him first, trying to put his hands on Geoff's face to check him but his boss pushed them away.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” he assured them both, and Jeremy turned his attention to Ryan, who Geoff had been looking at, “Ryan really I'm fine.”

“I’m sorry Geoff. I’m so sorry. Just, I’m in the dark, and I don’t know where anyone is, and I just-” Ryan was starting to cry.

“Rye… I'm gonna hug you.” Jeremy warned as he came in, trying to bring Ryan's head down to his shoulder but Ryan shoved him. Not hard but Jeremy's balance was shot and his prosthetic unsteady so he fell to the ground with a thud.

“Don’t touch me!” Ryan yelled, backing up, feeling his way back out the kitchen, “Not like you do anyway! I don’t need your sympathy!” Ryan snapped and worked his way to the front door and across the hall into the penthouse. 

Geoff offered his hand to Jeremy who looked close to tears himself. Jeremy took it, getting up and getting his prosthetic leg under him and leaning one hand on the middle bench.

"Jeremy-”

“Don’t start Geoff.”

“You got to tell-”

“I don’t have to tell him shit!” Jeremy snapped, glaring at Geoff before his face softens, “Geoff… He can’t know.”

“Look we went your way while you healed up and learned how to walk. You were right, you both needed to concentrate on yourselves. But you're back home. You're safe. You're healed up. It’s time he knew.” Geoff reasoned softly, and Jeremy shook his head.

“I know Ryan ok? He needs someone to be angry toward. Ryan needs to feel like he has control over something, and I'm not robbing him of that. What do you think would happen if he found out about my leg? He’s already depressed and fighting it, how do you think he’ll go if he knew I lost my foot trying to protect him? The guilt would literally kill him.”

 

In Jack and Geoff's apartment, Jack was trying to bring up the idea of a walking stick with Ryan. For the ninth time. Still unsuccessfully.

“Look I’ve heard of it ok? People can learn the insides of their houses.” Ryan said stubbornly. He knew the penthouse like the back of his hand, or so he thought. It was tough when you have a mental image of a place but can no longer see. This was just Jack’s point when she watched Ryan sink into a living room chair.

“Yes, you can. But you can’t account for every stray thing. Geoff’s a messy asshole, and I’m constantly picking up his shit.” She pointed out, “You could easily trip on a shoe or a shirt that’s been forgotten on the ground.”

“Well pick your shit up then!” Ryan pressed, Jack sighing as she poured Ryan a glass of diet coke and came towards him.

“Setting down a drink in front of you.” she warned before talking again, “This is our home, Ryan. We want to accommodate you, but we are not going to upturn the whole place if you don’t live here. I know Jeremy has already started redoing your home to be easier for you to navigate but-”

“What if I did?” Ryan cut across her, the softness of his voice catching her attention. She looked into his white scarred eyes, reading seriousness and suppressed pain on his face as Ryan walked his fingers over the table until he found his glass, “What if I did live here?”

He took a drink, and Jack considered her answer carefully, “Well of course if someone constantly living here was blind, than we would obviously alter our lifestyles around them.”

Ryan put down the glass, and Jack wanted to put her hand on his, but instead, she settled for sitting beside him and leaning closer so her words could be heard even as she spoke quietly, “But you don’t live here Ryan. You live next door. With Jeremy.”

“Do I? Or is he just crashing on my couch before he moves on?” Ryan asked miserably, Jack's breath catching at the pain in her friend.

“Can I take your hand?” She asked, and Ryan nodded, turning his hand over, callous palm up so Jack could put her own roughened hand in his. They were old friends, and Ryan had never made her feel bad for her un-dainty hands, just as she never fussed over his scars. Ryan knew she wasn’t about to start now either, the only one he wasn’t self-conscious about the scars on his eyes when around her.

“He, we, I…” Ryan searched for the words, “He’s so young Jack. He can come back from this. I can’t. I just- I can’t… But Jeremy, he, he could. I know he was hurt, I’m not making light of that, please don’t think I am. But I took the brunt of it.”

Jack bit her lip, wanting to say something but Ryan was still talking and she could tell he really needed to speak to someone.

“I took the brunt of it, and then, when we came home he just, ignored me! The only thing I remember about that first week was us together, holding Jeremy in the dark, knowing we were safe. Then he asked for a different bed! Jack… We haven’t slept next to each other since that first week. He hardly moves from the couch unless he thinks I need help. He never follows me up the stairs, won’t hug me hard, like he thinks I'll shatter.” Ryan closed his eyes the itch of his scars against the back of his lids familiar to him now, and he thought he must have cried more this past year than in the last ten because he could feel the wet on his cheeks, “He can’t bear to look at me. He always made me feel like my scars made me a unique book he loves to read but now, my eyes… they are too much, aren’t they? Why would Jeremy want to be with an old, scarred, Blind man?”  

“I don’t think Jeremy cares about that Ryan,” Jack said softly and Ryan's breath hitched than a little of the old Vagabond entered his face as he pushed Jack’s hand away.

“I don’t think Jeremy cares at all! He sleeps on the couch jack, and god forbid he actually say anything of meaning! Oh, he talks, won’t fucking shut up but never about anything meaningful! He won’t talk to me about what happened to us, just tells me it's over. I’ll tell you what’s over. This marriage is over!”

Ryan spat and grabbed his hand twisting his ring, but Jack's hands stilled his movements, only the fact they were Jack’s stopping Ryan from acting defensively.

“No! Ryan, please. You just need to talk to him is all.”

“Why? Why should I when he won’t talk to me?” Ryan demanded an answer. Jeremy and Geoff came in, and Ryan knew it from the way Jack sucked in a little breath. Ryan turned his head, knowing his gaze was intimidating now even to his crew.

“How much you hear?”

“Ryan, I love you Vagababy, you know that. I don’t care about your ey-” 

Ryan couldn’t hear this, standing so suddenly the chair fell back. Ryan hated this, hated himself, hated who had done this to him, hated the crew for witnessing, and HATED Jeremy that he couldn’t properly storm by. He moved as fast as he could, and when his hand touched a person, he shoved them aside.

“Ryan! Ryan please? Where are you going?!” Jeremy called from behind him, Ryan making it to the front door and after a bit of fumbling threw it open.

“Anywhere but here with you! Me and my backward shirt are outta here!” he snarled over his shoulder. He couldn’t be in that apartment with those people another instant. He couldn’t listen to Jeremy's voice anymore. He was being driven insane by the darkness, and he’d rip his eyes out himself to replace with a new set if only he could see.

“Jeremy! Go after him!” Jack yelled, and Ryan picked up speed. He could run fast if he threw caution to the wind, holding one hand out in front of him, the other tracing the wall as he bolted for the elevator. Ryan could hear Jeremy thumping down the hall, that persistent limp he had slowing him. Ryan hit buttons, and when he got in the lift, he tried to feel for the close button, no idea what he was pressing.

“Ryan! Ryan wait!” Jeremy called, and Ryan sobbed in relief when he heard the ding of the elevator closing than the sound of a body smacking against the doors. Ryan backed up, feeling his way into the corner of the elevator and sunk there to cry, ignoring the fact the elevator stopped at different floors. Ryan had already broken and begged before, what did he care if someone saw his pathetic remains? Besides, he had no idea how to find the lobby button; he’d just hit buttons randomly.

  
  


Upstairs Jeremy smacked his fist into the elevator doors he'd tripped onto, his leg on fire, except it wasn’t there anymore. Still, the phantom pain was agonizing and the fact Ryan had run from him more so. They were meant to be a team, Battle Buddies, but Ryan had fled.

“He thinks you don’t love him.” Geoff pointed out as he came close to Jeremy who lashed out at him, ripping his prosthetic leg off, and throwing it at him bellowing.

“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?!” Jeremy's voice broke, “But the fuck else can I do?! Right now he hates ME! If he knew he’d hate HIMSELF!”

“That's bullshit Lil J! And you know it!” Geoff had enough, picking up the prosthetic and then coming over to bring Jeremy onto his only leg, the lad's arm around his neck, “That's fucking bullshit. Now, why the fuck are we keeping this secret? Really?”

Jeremy hopped on one leg, wishing he could have run as Ryan did, Jack passing them to get Ryan out of the elevator. Jeremy hoped Ryan had the sense to stay on it; he didn’t want him running out onto the street in his condition.

“Hey! Hey no. Bad Jeremy.” Geoff flicked Jeremy's nose bringing him back to the now, “You don’t retreat into your head, you talk to me. Why the fuck. Are we not telling Ryan?”

“Cause I say so and seeing as Rye and I got got for your stupid ass crew, I’d say you can just fucking hold your goddamn tongue.” Jeremy snarled bitterly. Geoff was tempted to drop the stubborn asshole but instead threw him into a seat with his prosthetic shoved into his stomach.

“Fine, have it your way.” Geoff said in a monotone, stomping into the kitchen to serve breakfast to the lad while they waited for Jack to bring back Ryan. Jeremy hands tightened on his prosthetic, he hated it, he hated it so much. They had ordered a leg in with his measurements, but it would never replace the one he lost. 

And they hadn’t stopped hurting Ryan anyway.

He’d lost his leg for nothing...


	2. Love Starts Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first four times Ryan saw Jeremy  
> And the very last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't my planned number two chapter, this is simply a little THANK YOU for the responses to this fic and the comments I've gotten already!

Ryan had met Jeremy, of all things, at the ammunition weapons range. Jeremy had been drooling over the knife collection, eyeing off the different blades. Ryan was in mourning, his trusty switchblade had finally given in after many years of faithful service, and he was there to look for another.

“Excuse me.” Ryan made himself known, politely as he was in his civilian clothes. Jeremy had looked up and neither at that moment had realized they had met their soulmate. Jeremy had smiled and shifted back.

“Oh, sorry.” he surrendered the view to the knifes and walked away. And that had been the end of that meeting. Ryan never thought twice about the guy at the knife section. That was until he was holding him up a month later.

“Everyone on the ground! Come on! You know the fucking drill!” Michael was yelling, Gavin had slid over the counter and was making the cashier fill bags of money, the fourth store they had robbed tonight. Vagabond held his shotgun, checking isles when he saw Jeremy, not yet recognized him.

“You! Get over here!” He threatened, making Jeremy join the other hostages.

“Alright! I’m moving scorpion, gah!” Jeremy had sassed back, shuffling on his knees than getting on his belly, hands behind his head. Vagabond had snorted at the Scorpion joke and then sobered to see a knife hilt in the back of Jeremy's pants.

“Oh hey! Come on; I just bought that!” Jeremy complained, quieting down when there was a shotgun pressed to his spine.

“Yeah? Now it's mine. Thanks.” Vagabond had said smugly, admiring the shine of the knife, as long as his hand with the blade unfolded, then he retucked the sharp edge and slid it into his pants pocket.

“Asshole.” Jeremy had spat, and the shotgun had pressed harder.

“Wanna say that again?”

“ASS-HOLE”

Vagabond had growled, but Gavin yanked his elbow, “Come on Vagabond we gotta bounce!”

The third time they met, Ryan had by that point remembered who he had robbed of the blade. So to find him once again gazing longingly at the knife section, Ryan was amused by Jeremy's luck. He sidled up to the man, fully knowing he had Jeremy’s knife at home in his collection.

Ryan settled himself near the handguns and snuck glances at Jeremy, wondering what replacement blade the man would buy. Though Jeremy never looked his way, it seemed he was aware of Ryan's subtle glances because, after a few minutes, he moved closer.

“Hey, pal. What’s up?” Jeremy asked him, Ryan looking to see whether the attendant was near before looking back, Jeremy nodding, “Yeah, you. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing is up.” Ryan stuttered, shaking his head, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. He had started the paint and the mask because too clearly he wore his emotions on his face. Whenever he was in civilian Ryan mode, it was worse.

“Ah huh.” Jeremy looked doubtful, eyeing him up and down, “So what? Is it my height?”

Ryan looked down at the guy, only realizing how short he was now he was standing toe to toe with him, “No-”

“Cause if you're laughing at me, fair warning, I’m gonna bring you down big guy.”

“I just, like knives ok?” Ryan spluttered, and the short man deflated with a small carefree chuckle.

“Oh, why didn’t you say so? I’m Jeremy, Jeremy Dooley,” he thrust a hand out at Ryan, “Admirer of all things sharp.”

“Ryan Haywood, the admirer of knife admirers.” He answered, using up all his sauve for the year, going red as Jeremy's head tipped back in a laugh, coming back forward as red as Ryan was, letting go of his hand to run through brown curls.

“Wow, that's a… Quite the line.” Jeremy praised, suddenly as shy as Ryan as he gestured vaguely at the knives, “Wanna, ah, want to…”

“Look at knives together?”

“Yes, please.” Jeremy sighed out thankful that Ryan had caught on to what he’d been trying to say.

The fourth time he saw Jeremy Dooley was their first date. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as that, Ryan has called in an expert to help him. Along with her husband.

“So how old is this kid?” Geoff asked again from Ryans bed, throwing Ryans stress ball up and catching it while he lay on his back. Jack shot him a withering look from her investigation of Ryan's wardrobe, Ryan himself pacing.

“Old enough. And he’s not a kid.” Ryan defended himself then looked at Jack, “Please, I gotta have something decent right?”

“Ryan, you're half fandom obsessed teen, half middleaged dad according to your closet. Give me a moment would you?”

“You forgot the part psycho mercenary.” Geoff put in helpfully, getting the dual glare for that quip, Geoff catching the ball and shrugging, “What?”

“He doesn’t know about that. He won’t need to know about that.” Ryan said firmly, trying to ignore Geoff's snort of amusement.

“Sure, and when you're banging him on this bed tonight, make sure you put that away.” he pointed to the mask on the bedpost, Ryan snatching it up and putting it in the draw with shoulders stiff. Jack pointed at her husband then pointed to Ryan's back, Geoff sighing and sitting up, getting the message, “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just… concerned is all. You haven’t dated in awhile, and I just want to make sure you know what you can and cannot tell the guy on date one.”

“I know what I'm doing Geoff,” Ryan told him, with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Then he'd seen Jeremy at the restaurant, and he knew without a doubt, he had no fucking clue what he was doing. Jeremy was in long sleeved button up shirt and dressy jeans, his brown hair in tight curls and his purple and orange phone in his hand as he waited at the table.

Ryan swallowed hard and made his way over, sitting down across from jeremy who had just flashed him the largest smile, relief clear on his face.

“I was afraid you weren’t coming. Being stood up is the absoulute worst.” He had joked, ryan chuckling with him.

“Oh no. You kidding? A guy who knows his knives and actually agreed to come out with me? I’d be crazy to stand you up.” Ryan said truthfully. Jeremys eyes had glittered with mischeif and winked at him as he turned red.

“I’d rather you’d hold me down to be honest.” he coyly sudgested, Ryan swallowed hard once more. Jeremy burst into laughter which had set the tone for their entire realationship. Fun and laughter, jokes and games. Jeremy brought light and love into Ryans cold world...

Ryan remembered the last time he saw Jeremy. They’d been tortured together, neither giving any information, so the Vagos had decided to try and split them. They were dragging Jeremy to the side, out of Ryan's eye line, Jeremy was fighting, face fierce and eyes on Ryan.

The purple had started to grow out, dark with wet, splashback from Ryan's water torture. His eyes were small and nearly black with blown out pupils. Swelling obscured them, and blood covered his face from the spilled over the bridge of his nose, highlighting his white teeth in pink.

Ryan had smiled softly at his husband, tipping him a wink, trying to be cocky and brave. Jeremy had seen it and shaken his head, knowing Ryan was going to taunt to get the worse of it, begging him with his expression not too. Ryan only smiled wider, tears stinging on his beaten face.

He didn’t see Jeremy again.

His torturer moved into his sight then, A manic grin that turned to rage when Ryan spat into his eye. They held his head steady, bringing the knife close to his eyes, Ryan tried to fight but he was helpless. He fixed jeremys face into his mind as they started to slash.

Only as the burning chemicals seared his world black did Ryan understand…

He never would see his husband ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of the first chapter will be up in two weeks, 30 of December aussie time


	3. Love is Lame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the truth can set you free  
> Sometimes it doesn't...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you and much <3 too CaPowArsenic who Edits and puts up with my bullshit and still likes me for some unknown reason, so drop her a thanks in the comments because without her they'd be no ME!

Jeremy had a short tasteless breakfast with Geoff stewing across the table from him. Jack had come back to report Ryan had gone out with the Lads, pajama pants be damned so Jeremy took advantage of his absence.

“Hand me the crutch please?” Jeremy asked Jack who fetched him the crutch he barely used since he was trying to maintain he was still able bodied.

“Jeremy, listen kid-”

“Don’t Geoff. Just don’t. While he’s gone I got a chance to make the bedroom more friendly to him.” Jeremy said, getting onto his leg and balancing using the table. His prosthetic stayed on the couch when he moved and he eyed it bitterly.

“Jeremy, how are you gonna handle the stairs?” Jack asked softly, handing him his crutch which Jeremy tucked under his arm immediately, starting to hop away towards the crutch for his prosthetic.

“One at a time Jack. One at a time.” Jeremy muttered in return than with his fake limb under his other arm, made his way into his own home. 

He remembered when they had first moved in. They had decorated it together, laughing and arguing against each others suggestions so instead of fully black, like Ryan wanted, or completely orange and purple, like Jeremy wanted, it was a tasteful blend. Black and silver, purple and orange, mixed into a modern setting.

It was a combination of both of them, and Ryan would never see it again.

Jeremy sunk onto the couch to rest a moment, sliding the crutch under the furniture where Ryan couldn’t trip on it or find it by accident. Than he put his hands on the bandaging holding the padding to his stump, starting to unwind the figure eight wrapping, sighing in relief as it came away, only to frown when he saw the end of his leg.

They had cut midway through his calf, sawing through both bones, not letting him slip into unconsciousness. His leg throbbed now, remembering the pain, grinding his teeth together as he gripped the couch with white knuckled hands. When the crew had gotten the two back, Jeremy’s leg was mangled, they had not used a bone saw and infection was setting in.

Jeremy lost more of his calf, Alfredo slicing away infected flesh and bone, folding over a long strip of skin to seal the end. He had stitched it closed but the end result was hard for the former gymnast to bare. He still had a knee, and a few inches below. Everything else was just… gone.

Jeremy felt hot tears fall onto his knee and quickly dashed away the evidence. He lost a leg, so what? Ryan had lost a sense, both literally and metaphorically. Jeremy could wear a false leg, but nothing would return Ryan’s sight to the way it had been. Jeremy refused to feel sorry for himself. He was unimportant, Ryan was the one who needed every support.

Jeremy had sworn in his vows to support and love Ryan through anything the world would throw at them. The lad meant to do just that, grabbing fresh bandages and padding from the kit hidden underneath the living room coffee table, quickly binding his stump so he didn’t have to look at the reddened flesh where his calf should be.   
  
Then came the temporary prosthetic. He slipped his stump into it and started to bind it on. Alfredo said he should only have to wear it for six months or so before his leg would be healed enough for his permanent one. Jeremy didn’t even think of it, he left it up too Geoff and Jack to order his new leg. 

Jeremy got the metal end on the ground and with a grunt, heaved himself up onto it. It took some getting used too, his balance was completely shot. He kept knocking it, tripping and using too much weight, unable to judge what his prosthetic could do. He hated it, but he needed to keep the illusion to Ryan that Jeremy was scarred but fine.

To admit to Ryan would be too admit to himself.

Jeremy adopted his stomping limp to get to the stairs, looking up at the door to their bedroom and bathroom. Since they’d returned home, both of them walked across the hall each night for their showers. Neither could use the shower unassisted. Each refused to ask the other for help.

The stairs seemed to have added seven or eight rungs to his mind's eye. Had there always been so many? Jeremy straightened his spine and set his false foot on the first step, holding onto wall and railing. He pushed and wobbled as all his weight was on his stump for a moment, sharp pain shooting up from the phantom limb. Than his other foot was on the stair and he looked up panting.

“One down…” he muttered to himself, this time trying his good leg first, holding his weight on the false, more pain but lesser than heaving up on it. Jeremy got both on the second stair, wavering slightly, but determined to get up. Step, heave, step, wobble, breath, step, heave, step, wobble, breath.

He bit back a sob halfway up, his leg was on fire, the taunts of his tormentors in his ears with every rock on his prosthetic leg.

_ Look! He be a pirate! _

_ Arrr! _

_ Peg leg for the pegged boy?! _

_ Ha! Bitch gonna cry? One legged loser gonna cry? _

Jeremy heaved, but his knee buckled over his stump and he fell forward, stairs digging into hip and chest, hands falling onto the landing, catching himself from sliding back down the stairs. He lowered his forehead to the carpet of the landing and started to sob, unable to stop himself.

No wonder Ryan wanted to leave, Jeremy thought, if this was the pathetic remains of Jeremy Dooley, he would want to leave as well.

\---

Michael and Gavin had found Ryan in the elevator, curled up in the corner with his backwards shirt and pajama pants. Ryan had yelped and struck out when Michael touched his shoulder, the Lad cursing giving away his identity. From there he had blindly groped, grabbing Gavin and bringing him down to his level.

“Please, get me the fuck out of here.”

Gavin had sent the message to Jack while Michael had put his arm around Ryan’s waist to guide him to the Lads car. All thoughts of breakfast fled, only helping their friend remained. Michael had driven them to a safe-house to get Ryan a change of clothes, and when they had gotten back in the car, Gavin tapped Ryan’s arm.

“Hey, gonna be touching your face here, supper brief Rye-bread, there you are.” Gavin’s feather-light fingers brushed Ryan’s temples as he slid his own sunglasses onto Ryan's nose. Ryan smiled raggedly, more resigned than hurt.

“Eyes that bad huh?” He asked, almost feeling Gavin shake his head.

“Nah, just a tad eye catching. Still your eyes always were right boi?”

“Gav’s right, all anyone talked about was your damn eyes.” Michael tried to help and Ryan appreciated the effort. He knew they were talking out of love for him so he let it slide. It was nice not to be worried that they were staring into his scarred orbs with pity whilst he remained unaware.

Michael had cracked the windows and Ryan smelt and tasted the sea, furrowing his brows.

“Are we heading to the docks?” he asked only for the road to change to the sound of wood, confirming his guess.

“Yeah. how’d you know?” Michael asked and Ryan shrugged.

“Smelt it.”

“Whot? You’re gonna be a bloody superhero Ryan. Your other senses-”

“Are next to useless Gavin, don’t patronize me. How many times have you wound down the window when we drove near the beach to get that sea smell? It's nothing different or fancy, just I don’t have the vision to back it up.” Ryan spoke bitterly and he heard Gavin's mouth snap shut. He couldn’t bring himself to care, the moment the car stopped he open the door and got out, starting to walk away, stubbornly putting his hands in his pockets to give the appearance of sight though his instincts screamed at him to put them out.

“Ryan wait!” Gavin spluttered and Ryan could hear running after him. Before Gavin could get there, Ryan walked into a car, falling on his ass and the alarm blaring. Ryan shuffled back, shoulders hitting Gavin's legs and the lad fell over him with a birdlike squawk.

“Watch where your fucking going!” Spat Ryan in the direction he could feel Gavin was getting up over Ryan's legs, “It’s not like your fucking blind!”

“Ryan, I- you just- Ryan…” 

“What? I should watch where i’m going? HA, very funny!” Ryan scrambled to his own feet, everything felt too exposed in his dark world, unable to judge any placement of items. He knew they were on the docks, but memory of the place couldn’t pinpoint just where he was standing in the car park, nor how many cars were around them.

“He never said that Ryan, you know that.” Michael said from behind him, making Ryan flinch than screw his fists up, alarm still blaring from the car he’d walked into.

“Oh no, you guys expect me to just be lead about by the hand, like a toddler! Jeremy won’t even let me cut my own food! I am a grown ass man damn it! I don’t need anyone's help!” Ryan felt tears burn in his eyes, the itch made worse when he cried and he didn’t want anyone to see that. He turned his head from where he assumed both the Lads were standing and dashed away the tears as fast as he could.

“Hey! You asked US remember? You wanted us to take you out, so here we fucking are. Don’t get PMSy at us just because-”

“Micool no…”

“-you refuse to except your a fucking bat.” Michael took no heed of Gavin's warning and Ryan twisted to where Michael’s voice was coming. The alarm thankfully was shut off so his words were delivered into dead silence after the blare.

“What did you call me?” He asked, Vagabond’s dangerous voice, low and threatening.

“I called you a Bat. What are you going to do about it parking space?” Taunted Michael, Gavin gasping somewhere to Michael’s left, the clink of his rings touching as no doubt he touched fingers to his mouth. Ryan bared his teeth in a snarl at Michael’s voice.

“How dare you! I bled for this crew!” Ryan lunged at where he believed Michael to be, but the distance was difficult to judge and he had to take an extra step which threw his weight off balance. He collided with Michael’s waist and brought them both down, yelling as they went, Michael’s back hitting the wooden dock with a dull thud.

Gavin shrieked, but Ryan used touch to climb blindly up Michael’s body, smacking widely at the air, hitting Michael’s hands, grabbing his shirt front and punching down at Michael’s face. He roared, in pain as his fist hit the ground instead, but he pulled back and swung again, this time hitting some sort of facial part, Michael yelling this time.

Michael’s hands shoved him but he swung again, this time catching mouth a little back, teeth slicing his knuckles before Gavin’s arms came under his underarms.

“NO! Fuck you! I’ll fight you!” Ryan struggled weakly, not just his eyes had been affected by his torture and recovery. Gavin could pull and Michael could push and together peel the frustrated blind-man off. 

“Ryan! You need to accept your blind now dude!” Michael said with tough love but Ryan could only rage. He hated them right now, he hated everyone. He hated the men who did this, he hated the crew he stayed silent for and most of all he hated Jeremy who did nothing but let him take the brunt of the punishment.

“Never.” he spat coldly, calming so Gavin could take his elbow, guiding him towards the docks and the cool sea breeze. He didn’t have to see to know the look the two lads exchanged, “Never…”

\---

“How is he? Are you fucking kidding me? He’s blind and pissed Geoff that's what he is.” Michael thought he was far enough away, but Ryan could hear every word through the cracked window of the car. Gavin had given up speaking to him so they were sitting in silence waiting on michael, “Yeah we’re gonna bring him home. Been a shit fucking day anyways, hardly ate anything, hates our fucking guts. Yeah i know he bleed for this crew, he keeps telling- I know Geoff why do you think we put up with his ass? But he’s not the only one who- I don’t care what Jeremy wants, that's his fucking husband and he should- fucking fine, whatever, fuck me right? Yeah see you in ten.”

Ryan stared at nothing, his life since coming home a single long blank gaze. He knew he was making Gavin uncomfortable, the lad kept trying to fill the silence with idle small talk but Ryan remained unresponsive. He had loved the Lads, loved them enough that when it had been between battle buddies or team dynomite to go to the risky meetup, Ryan had volunteered himself and his husband.

Had he not maybe it would have been him trying to fill the silence as Michael sat here blind and bitter while Gavin sat at home, off easy with his burn scars and fully able body. Ryan tried to remind himself he didn’t wish their roles reversed but from the the dark space he lived in his head, he couldn’t hide how badly he wanted his sight back. How he’d do anything, hurt anyone, to get it back.

When he shut the door in his family's faces, Ryan was primed for a fight. Jeremy's snores only  stoked the fury. How dare he be napping while Ryan had been out in emotional agony all day. Jeremy could just  _ sleep  _  and the images of his dreams didn’t torment him with what he could no longer have.

“Hey ASSHOLE!” Ryan yelled, making it too Jeremy's couch, ready to let him have it, only to trip on something and fall onto the cushions. Jeremy woke up, sitting bolt upright to screech in pain as Ryan tried to use his legs to get back up.

Except Ryan's hand slide down one knee and onto  _ nothing… _

Jeremy's leg… It was… gone?

“NOO! PLEASE DON’T!” Jeremy screamed, trying to get away from Ryan's hands, falling off the couch and onto the grounds. Ryan didn’t think, he had no mercy, groping after him and grabbing the stump, feeling and pressing fingers into the scar, touching his thigh and his other leg as horror dawned over his blind features.

“Y-your leg…” He gasped, letting the tormented man go to curl up against the opposite couch and sob, his stump paining him, his missing toes shooting with sharp pains, everything in him telling him his leg was there and in pain. Ryan felt his own eyes burn as he started to cry as well.

Jeremy had lost his leg. His whole leg. Just gone. Ryan couldn’t comprehend it. Jeremy? Crippled? Jeremy? Unable to walk? Jump? Run? Jeremy who could swarm up ladders like others walk across the kitchen, who could do lunges all morning than run city blocks all night?

“Ryan, please.” Jeremy's voice was broken, rough with tears, “T-talk to me.”

Ryan turned his face towards the love of his life. The man he wanted to be with, to live with to always have by his side. He could even imagine how Jeremy would look right now. Jeremy curled up on himself when upset, maybe hugging his knees toge- no… hugging a single knee. Because Jeremy hadn’t told him what had happened. He’d kept it from him. This, the biggest thing to ever happen to the man.

“Why?” Ryan asked, voice gone dead, “When you never talked with me?”   
  
Ryan got up, his emotions shutting down. This was all too much, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel. He never wanted to do either again. 

There was no Jack to stop him this time as he twisted the ring off his finger and felt the weight of it in his palm. The solid weight was nothing to what it represented, his hand heavy with the promise of love, truth, loyalty. He let his hand tip and the ring slid off his palm to bounce across the floor. 

He didn’t feel anything when he heard Jeremy wail, understood none of his words as Jeremy begged, didn’t slow when he heard him crawl. Ryan found the railing to the stairs and ascended where he knew Jeremy could not go. He shut the bedroom door like he had shut his heart.

Firmly and with finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and Kudos and encourage this fic to keep going!


	4. Love is Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fyi theres is heavy talk ahead so, be aware of that  
> Also suggestions of potential suicidal thoughts so please tread careful  
> I had a lovely day turn into a crap night, so i wanted to do something that would make me happy. So everyone wins! early chapter post!

Ryan sat on his bed with his hands between his knees and listened to Jeremy sob downstairs for a long time. He felt hollowed out, empty, with nothing more to give. All this time he’d been so angry, so furious at fate, at the crew, at Jeremy…

Jeremy had lost a huge part of himself, Ryan thought than felt the grin pull at his mouth for the pun. He slapped his cheek, sickened by the humor he found in the situation. Jeremy, all this time, had hidden this from him. Hadn’t thought he could take it. 

Now Ryan wanted to be angry with him, but this new information robbed him of it. How could he be angry at his husband for this? Jeremy had his leg taken, no doubt in the torture of them both. How could Ryan not have noticed sooner? So caught up in his own pain, he ignored Jeremy’s.

He didn’t know when Jeremy had stopped crying, but he heard him on the stairs. Grunts and thumps as no doubt the idiot was attempting to crawl his way up. Ryan’s way to the door from the bed was memorized by this point, he could almost convince himself he could still see. 

Ryan opened the door and came out, feeling his way to sitting down on the top stair, focusing his face on the gasp Jeremy gave. Jeremy had stopped, and they stayed for a long time in silence.

“I was just coming to see you,” Jeremy spoke soft, the rasp of a long sob session in his voice.

“Really? Bout time.” Ryan couldn’t help be bitter. The torture chamber was many months in the past… and every night in their dreams. Surely Jeremy slept as well as Ryan did, which was not at all unless it was the sleep of utter exhaustion.

So many lonely nights in the dark, wishing, longing for Jeremy to come up these stairs, to lay beside him again and hold him. For a husband who could make him feel as if his eyes were simply shut and when he opened them in the morning there’d be light. Fuck, Ryan would settle for a husband present, no miracle attached.

But Jeremy never came. And Ryan had thought it was him, that he reminded Jeremy too much of the guilt. For surely Jeremy felt horrible that Ryan had been so mutilated and he’d gotten off by comparison, Scott free. Now Ryan knew the truth, knew Jeremy couldn’t face the steps because of his own injury; he felt only tired.

“Ryan, I...I-I just couldn’t.” Jeremy tried to express why he’d hidden this from him. The largest thing to ever happen and everyone else knew, just not his own life partner. Because of course, the crew must know, they only had to look with their perfectly functional eyes to know what had happened to Jeremy. But he, Ryan, Jeremy's own husband did not, and Ryan had spent the last few months getting more bitter and confrontational. 

“Do you remember Thanksgiving with my family?” Ryan asked instead of any of the painful subjects spread between them. He heard Jeremy shuffle up a step, imagined the confused look on his face… He wondered what color Jeremy's hair was right now.

“Yeah…” Jeremy said slow, wondering what this had to do with anything, “None of them know you are the Vagabond, and since your parents had passed and you were an only child, not many remembered you either. But they welcomed us in any way, and your cousin Sharron kept asking if we were going to adopt soon…” Jeremy trailed off the happy memory becoming pained.

“They weren’t my family,” Ryan said into the pause.

“What? What do you mean?” Jeremy asked confused and surprised.

Ryan shrugged, blinking slow and facing his head up, so he no longer gave the impression of looking at Jeremy, “I mean, they weren’t my family. I bullshitted my way in through the grandfather since he was the youngest of nine and he had only sisters, it was easy to get him to accept my last name. And the family was so huge, no one questioned the cousin they all ‘forgot.' It was utter bullshit, not a speck of blood between them and me.”

He listened as Jeremy stuttered, unable to think of something to say. The utter confusion must be frustrating which gave Ryan a flash of vicious pleasure to have someone else feel that way for once.

“W-why?” Jeremy finally settled on what he wanted to say, “Why do that? Why tell me now?” 

“Why did you lose your leg? Why didn’t  you tell me?” Ryan countered, harshly, Jeremy spluttering again but this time in anger.

“You set me up for that!” he objected

“And you walked into it blindly,” Ryan said slow and deliberate, combining both their injuries into one hurtful jab. He heard Jeremy punch the wall and growl out, “Fuck! If you were within distance Ryan, I swear I'd-”

“What? Punch the blind man?”

“Yes!”

“Aren’t you afraid I’d break? Shatter into a million fucking pieces?”

“YES!!”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT!! All these years and I've been protecting YOUR ASS because YOU couldn’t deal with the fucking world! What makes you think all of a sudden I couldn’t deal?”

“I KNOW you couldn’t deal with it!”

"HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW THAT?!"

"BECAUSE YOU CAN'T DEAL WITH BEING FUCKING BLIND!"

Ryan threw himself in Jeremy's direction with a roar. He collided with him, and they fell, entwined down the stairs, picking up bruises and screaming with rage and pain. Ryan felt wet around his shins as he ended up on top of Jeremy, blindly grabbing face to line up his punch, drawing back and throwing fist forward. Jeremy yelled out and flailed, his hands smacking Ryan’s face, setting the scars to burning.

Ryan reeled like he’d had hot coals thrown at his face, he avoided touching his eyes for this reason, his mind screaming he was in danger once more. Jeremy's stump had opened along the scar line and his leg was likewise in agony. The fight ended as suddenly as it started, Ryan falling to writhe next to Jeremy, both absorbed in their respective injury.

Ryan heard the door burst open and Geoff shout, “What the fuck is going on here?!”   
  
“ **GET THE FUCK OUT** !” Ryan and Jeremy roared together, Ryan hearing Geoff swear hotly and race out. Jeremy groaned at Ryan’s side, the familiar hitch of pain in his voice like jagged glass through Ryan's heart.

“He’s gonna come back with Jack. We’re in so much trouble.”

“You started it!” Ryan grumbled, the ache around his eyes starting to fade, longing for a cool cloth to lay across them.

“Me! You fucking attacked me asshole!” Jeremy was incredulous, Ryan imagining the look on Jeremy’s face, one he’d seen a million times before.

“Just like our honeymoon?” He found himself joking, Jeremy’s reluctant laugh helped to ease a little of his pain. Jeremy had always done that for him. Helped him to see the lighter side of life. It’s why he’d fallen for the lad in the first place.

He rolled, closing his eyes to pretend it was dark and he wasn’t blind, finding Jeremy in that dark and kissing him like they hadn’t in months. Jeremy made a soft noise of surprise, his lips tasted of salt and copper, but Ryan didn’t care. Within moments Jeremy didn’t care either, lips moving together,haltingly at first, than they found again the rhythm of an old comfortable relationship.

Jeremy's hand cupped Ryan's face gently, the other moved to his nape, drawing him closer. Ryan let himself be pulled partly atop the lad, his own hand sliding down Jeremy's side to his waist, the other behind Jeremy’s neck…

Ryan drew back with a gasp, breaking the kiss they both so desperately needed.

“What? What is it?” Jeremy asked breathless, as Ryan tried to hold in the betrayal fresh again through his heart. Jeremy had shaved his head bald, something Ryan just couldn’t imagine. Now even his mental image of Jeremy was wrong.

“It’s about fucking time is what it is!” Geoff replied too Jeremy happily, the way Jeremy’s grip tightened than loosened on Ryan meant the lad hadn’t realised that the gent had returned either. Ryan turned his head instinctively towards Geoff’s voice, “Now let us help patch you two love birds up and help you upstairs, than we’ll leave you to talk.”

“Honestly Geoff, you run over saying their killing each other and we find them like this?” Jack chuckled as something heavy was set down. Jeremy started to sit up and Ryan let himself be put upright as well, Jeremy’s hand slipping around his waist. Ryan let him do it, his mind was already racing ahead to what he needed to do now.

“Ow! Easy Jack!” Jeremy yelped, Ryan’s grip the one that tightened this time. Hearing Jeremy’s pain, doing nothing to stop it was what broke him in the interrogation they went through. Why he’d been ready to spill secrets. All for a man he barely knew anymore. Had the crew been an hour later…

“Ryan? I just want to pad your eyes for the night. Is that ok?” Jack had moved on while Ryan had been musing, now he was the patient. He nodded, used to the padding now so when Jack tied it on, the cool a relief, it didn’t feel strange.

Just as the hand in his didn’t feel strange. All the fight had gone out of Ryan, he just wanted Geoff and Jack to go away, and to curl up with his husband once more. Ryan knew he should leave right away, go with Jack and Geoff to their place, but he was selfish. He would take this one last night, to pretend everything could go back to the way it was.

Though now he realized it won’t and more than that, it never could.

Jeremy was alight with happiness. A broken open scar on face and stump was a small price to pay for Ryan's hand in his. He couldn’t believe that Ryan finding out would end this way, with them finally connecting again. 

They were patched up more damage done by the stairs than each other in their breif fistfight, than Jack and Geoff helped Jeremy up the stairs. Ryan went ahead, blind yes, but he knew this part of his house perfectly. Jeremy felt on cloud nine to once again be in the bedroom, Jack setting him down on the bed as Ryan leant against the doorway, arms folded and waiting no doubt for the other gents to leave.

“Are you sure you guys are ok?” Jack asked Jeremy quietly, neither noticing Ryan’s head twitch, listening intently.

“Yeah, we’re good. He… He tripped over and landed on my, well, lack of leg. I think we got a lot to talk about but… You were right guys, I should have just told him.” Jeremy admitted low and Geoff smiled, punching his shoulder.

“Told ya so.”

“Goodnight Geoff.”

“Night guys, common Jack, let’s leave them be.” Geoff said happily but Jack was less convinced, looking to Ryan standing stiff in the doorway to the bedroom. Geoff thundered down the stairs while Jeremy lay back on his bed, settling back into his spot like he hadn’t left it for months. Jack however leant in close to Ryan.

“Putting a hand on your arm.” she warned quietly doing so as she whispered into his ear, “Please don’t hurt him.”

“I’ll do what’s best for him Jack. I always have.” Ryan murmured back, feeling Jack’s hand tighten on his arm, not buying it. He let himself deflate a tiny bit, “He’ll need you first thing in the morning I think. But this has to be said.”

Ryan was figuring out there was more to life than sight, almost feeling the displacement of air as jack nodded so close to his face, brushing a soft chaste kiss to his cheek. “We love you both.” Jack told him than she left as well.

“Aww man, it is nice to finally be in this bed again.” Jeremy groaned, stretching out than wincing as it pulled at his freshly opened scars on his stump. Jack had cleaned it, stitched and wrapped it again, but it still hurt.

“It was always here for you,” Ryan despite his mental promise to be nice, couldn't help throwing the barb as he crossed over to the bed himself and crawled onto it, feeling his way to the headboard, “Just like me.”

Jeremy winced, “I’m sorry Ryan. It was never you it was-”

“The stairs I know.” Ryan completed the sentence for him, wishing there would be a different answer but not finding one. They had always been able to complete each other's thoughts, one exchanged look and the battle buddies were grinning and killing without the need for verbal communication. 

Gone up in smoke.

“It was me.” Jeremy corrected as Ryan got under the covers Jeremy was laying on, Jeremy taking his husband’s hand. Ryan’s ring a heavy burden in his pocket as he rubbed over the groove where it once sat. Ryan stilled instantly as familiar warm hands cupped his, throat thickening and eyes stinging as he listened to the quiver in Jeremy's voice.

“It’s never made sense that you wanted me Ryan. Never. I was young and stupid and starstruck. I had so many stupid ideas thinking our lives were action stories where the main characters always won, always got off with only minor wounds, perhaps even sexy scars.” Jeremy spoke softly, stroking Ryan’s hand, the back of which had many small scars from various weapons, explosions and shrapnel. The pad was no better, calloused from his work, rough to touch. 

“I’m sorry my eyes aren’t ‘sexy’ anymore.” He said bitterly and tried to tug his hand from Jeremy’s grip, ashamed that Jeremy could still see the markings on his skin. Jeremy tightened his grip and brought it to his face instead, Ryan stilling when he felt fresh stitches across the bridge of Jeremy’s nose, mouth dropping open in horror.

“Did I-?”

“No, Ryan, you split the scar is all.” Jeremy was quick to assure him it was a pre existing wound, which was not actually that reassuring, “But feel? I am marked too now. And trust me, it ain't sexy at all.”

Jeremy's tone was self deprecating, something in the past Ryan would have leap to turn around. This time however he let his hand fall listlessly into Jeremy’s lap the moment the lad stopped holding it against his face. Jeremy picked it up in both hands again, started rubbing Ryan’s fingers between his palms, just the way Ryan liked it, though Ryan was beyond a simple hand massage helping him.

“Ryan, you focused on the wrong part. It’s not about the scars. It's about the fact I thought we were invincible. You and me, battle buddies. We took that job cause we thought only we could handle it if the meet-up was a set up. And we were wrong…”

Ryan heard the pain in his husbands voice and he breathed out some of the frustration he’d been holding onto so he could curl his fingers around a hand, stilling them. Jeremy took that as a sign he could continue talking, speaking softer but Ryan could still hear him.

“I was wrong… I was so wrong Ryan, I was so, so wrong. I kept thinking, the crew would come. The crew would bust us out. Or you would turn the tables, or I would or something cause they way you were screaming just doesn’t exist in-” Ryan shuddered hard and pulled his hand out of Jeremys grip, rolling onto his side and curling up, hearing his own voice shrieking in his ears, unable to look away from the mental image before his blind eyes.

_ “The great Vagabond, begging? Now I can die because i’ve heard everything!” They laughed all around him, but Ryan couldn’t stand it any longer. Couldn’t stand watching them burn Jeremy, couldn’t stand the pink red and yellow on his husbands calf. _

_ “I didn’t beg you donkey fucking assholes! I said you’d best quit now before you fuck up this interrogation worse than you already have!!” _

_ “Oh? How are we fucking it up hmm? We seem to have gotten a response from dear Rimmy Tim here…” _

_ “Look at him! He’s a greenhorne! Plus you skipped some very crucial steps in your haste for fire. A bunch of amateurs like you would never get a peep from me!” He’d taunted and bragged, Jeremy’s head lolling, gag in his mouth but eyes trying to find Ryan’s voice.  _

_ “Oh yeah? How about we back up a step then? To sharps hmm? Take that one over there! I got these baby blue eyes myself…” _

“RYAN!” Jeremy shook his shoulders and Ryan yelled out, Jeremy catching the hand he flailed at him blindly, “Ryan! You’re with me! You’re in your bed! Ryan, it’s over!” 

Ryan trembled, blinking rapidly, heart racing as he shook his head, taking in Jeremy's words, “It’s never over. Never. Every night they blind me in my dreams. Every, single, night.”

Jeremy's arms came around him, strong and sure, supporting him as he’d longed for since Jeremy had left his bed a week into their rescue. In Jeremy’s arms, Ryans resolve weakened as he rolled so he could press his face too Jeremy's chest. The padding was soothing against his eyes and he could pretend for a moment that the dark was only because of the blindfold.

Then Jeremy pulled him tighter in and Ryan’s leg brushed against his thigh and the lack of calf. The reminder was like cold water splashed against his face, awakening him to the fact that Jeremy had been lying to him for months. 

Ryan broke into sobs and all too soon Jeremy was sobbing too. They clung to one another through the hailstorm of bottled emotions brought free by being together here in their bed. The last time they had been here together they had been whole and happy, now they were broken and miserable. The comparison was hard to swallow and so they cried a cleaning rollercoaster of tears.

With the lights off, they curled around one another, sharing their grief for the lives they had once lived in the form of tears, the messy heaving kind. They took turns, as one caught his breath the other broke down further; when they calmed, they held the other as he started to spiral. It was a timeless period before they were both sniffling and hiccuping, spent of their energy to express themselves.

Ryan groaned as he peeled away the soaked padding on his eyes, Jeremy gently taking it from him and moving it aside where Ryan wouldn’t step on it the next day. Ryan couldn’t rub his eyes without pain, so he dabbed at them with the sheet, the pillows flipped by his husband so they could lay on the dry sides. Jeremy gave a soft groan of his own as he resettled, arms weaving around Ryans waist to pull himself into the gents side, laying his head on Ryan’s chest.

“I dunno about you, but fuck I needed that.” Jeremy murmured hoarsely with an edge of humour. Ryan nodded, wrapping his own arms around Jeremy, pulling him instinctively into a more secure and natural hold.

“I really did. Course, we never ever tell the others.” he joked, “No tears here, just liquid manliness.”

“Of course.” Jeremy agreed, “We’ve just been holding back our cool so long it had to come out.” they chuckled together for a moment before Jeremy breathed out, his voice small and vulnerable underneath Ryans chin, “Ryan… You're leaving me aren’t you?”

Ryans heart squeezed and despite the emptying cry, he felt tears prick again, holding Jeremy closer as he prepared to break him, “Yes. In a way… I think, we need some time… alone…” his throat thickened too much, closing over the painful words. Jeremy nuzzled into his chest and he breathed in a rattling breath.

“Can I… Could I…” he tried to ask something but he seemed to be having as much trouble talking as Ryan was. Ryan had always loved that about Jeremy, the lad when confronting emotions almost flubbed as bad as the gent did. Ryan felt Jeremy gather himself, the sweet touch of Jeremy’s fingers brushing over Ryan’s arm a counterpoint to the painful truth they both had to face, “I  _ love  _ you” he whispered, voice quivering with the strength of his feelings.

Ryan tucked his head over Jeremy's, feeling fresh wet across his skin where Jeremy’s face was pressed. He didn’t even mind about the baldness anymore, not now this was over, he wanted to absorb as much of his Jeremy before he was gone. He kissed the skin there, then when he felt Jeremy's head shift, kissed his cheek looking for lips before he made contact.

Bittersweet, tasting of love, salt and regret.

A small roll of his head had Ryan’s forehead pressed to Jeremy’s and he spoke so close to Jeremy’s lips he felt them brush occasionally, felt Jeremy's breath for himself, “As I love you. But, as much as we love each other, I don’t think right now we are  _ good _ for each other… We can’t- it’s not- we’re not-”

“Neither of us can deal while we’re so worried about the other.” Jeremy filled in for him, Ryan giving a soft choked chuckle at how easily Jeremy still could get on his wavelength.

“Exactly. Maybe life will bring us together again. GOD i hope it does, I want to grow old with you still Jeremy dooley.” ryan bit his lip to stop a fresh bout of tears, hearing Jeremy's breath hitch and their heads separated as Jeremy hid his face in Ryan's neck, kissing the skin there, fingers clutching as if he could sink inside Ryan and never be able to leave as his husband spoke on, “We’ll call this a trial- s-separation...But in the morning I’ll be leaving. You can keep this-”

“I don’t want it.” Jeremy growled wetly, hand coming up to dash tears away, looking to Ryan's face illuminated by the glow of the moon through the window. Oh how it tore at him that Ryan couldn’t see him, couldn’t see and understand the ripping sensation roaring inside Jeremy's chest as he caught the blind man in another emotion filled kiss, trying to make him feel how desperately Jeremy didn’t want this, “This place has no hold over me without you. It’s not my home if your not here. I don’t fucking want it without you!”

“Jeremy…”

“No, I won’t make you stay Ryan. I know you, when you’ve made up your mind there’s nothing i can do to stop you.” Jeremy had pressed a finger to Ryan’s lips to still his words, changing it to a caress, thumb memorizing the feeling of Ryan’s full lips under his touch, “All I ask is… please… Wear your ring? Doesn’t have to be on your finger but just… keep it close?”

Ryan nodded, blinking as Jeremy took his hand and slid it back where it belonged. Ryan wondered how much a human being could cry as they both sobbed again, kissing wet and fast, hands desperately grabbing, nothing about sex and everything about comfort as they traced each others bodies. Neither thought they could get a hard on if they tried right now, it was about holding tight, storing as much love as they could before morning.

Sometime after their grief fueled makeout had ebbed, Ryan was rubbing circles into Jeremy's back as the lad played with his fingers, “Ryan?” he felt the hum of assent under his head, “Where will you go?”

“I… I can’t stay with the crew. I’m no longer the Vagabond. I’m no longer any use.” He spoke bitterly, “So I might see if perhaps Doll might have some room for me. Organise something… I’m not… I’m not sure to be honest. What about you?”

Jeremy shrugged, not stopping playing with Ryan's hands. He was so in love with Ryan’s hands. Ryan’s large sure hands, holding a diet coke, throwing a knife, a remote, Jeremy's body…

“I might see if Matt could still use a roommate. I-I thought of staying with the lads but, they others, they all got…” Jeremy trailed off for a moment, unable to vocalise how happy Jack and Geoff were, how in love Michael and Gavin that he couldn’t stand couples right now, “But I think i’ll do the physical and get back on my, heh, foot.”

Ryan felt a smile pull at his lips, pride in his Jeremy. Of course Jeremy wouldn’t let this break him. Like it had broken Ryan.

“Fake forever?” he joked but instead of Jeremy laughing he felt Jeremy's hand clasp Ryan’s.

“Vagabond… Wander home every now and again?” Jeremy begged with closed eyes and open heart. Ryan raised the hand to his lips to kiss it.

“I’ll do my best.”

They didn’t speak much after that, fulling into dual fitful sleeps. 

 

When Ryan got up in the morning and snuck out, Jeremy pretended he was still asleep. After all, Ryan couldn’t hear the silent tears running down Jeremy's face, nor see the Lad carefully sitting up to watch him go. Ryan would certainly have no idea once he had gone that jeremy had pulled out his phone and his gun, considering which he wanted to use for a very, very long time…


	5. Love is Adaptable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love breaks but you adapt... or you don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for suicidal thinking and heavy depression

Jeremy grunted when he felt something small and round collide with his back. He tried to ignore it, but another one hit him. He pulled the blanket up higher over his head, his short hair growing back in without him shaving it every second day uncomfortably being caught by the sheet.

Jeremy ignored that too, as well as the next ball that bounced off his cocooned body.

Matt grabbed another ping-pong ball from the bowl and tapped his finger on it as he eyed his target, “Jeremy, if you don’t get up I’m going to keep throwing.”

“Go away…” Jeremy muttered, curling tighter. Since moving in with his friend, Jeremy had been leaving the bed less and less over the past month until Matt had to do something. Jeremy had only left his bed to hop to the bathroom and back in the past three days. He’d had enough of his miserable friend wallowing in his self-pity.

“Seriously, Don’t make me pull in the big guns Lil’J.” Matt warned as he bounced another ball off the back of Jeremy's head, “Look, I’m not asking for much. Just go to the couch and stare at the Tv while I make your bed fresh ok? Fuck I’ll even provide a fresh blanket for you to cocoon yourself out there, but you need to leave this bed.”

Jeremy didn’t answer. He was comfortable there, his body heavy, his mind thick. He had zero motivation to get out of the bed and even if he tried, the drag of sheet against his stump reminded him to stay still. Deep inside he was alarmed at how he’d let himself fall like this, but it just wouldn’t penetrate the fog of depression that wrapped around his feelings.

Matt groaned and came closer to overtip all the balls over the lump that was Jeremy. Not even a twitch, so he went back to the door and knocked. Immediately Jack opened the door and tasked at the sour smell of built-up sweat. The smell of cooking bacon and eggs came with her, and on her heels, Michael and Trevor came in as well.

“Jeremy, time to get up,” she said in her sternest mum voice.

“Jack?” Jeremy lifted his head starting to turn it before he realized what an effort that was. He let it flump back to the pillow, “ No. Leave me alone. I’m fine here.”

“Geoff’s cooking breakfast with Lindsay,” Jack told him as she pointed, getting the men to surround the bed, Matt, Trevor and Michael ready to grab at her order.

“Not hungry,” Jeremy mumbled his reply. Michael tried tough love, poking the lump.

“Dude you stink.”

“Then leave,” Jeremy replied without a hint of shame.

“Right. Come on lads.” Jack said and pointed, “Michael, you and I got top side, Trevor, Matt, bottom side. Let’s get him to the bath.”

Jeremy didn’t fight, nor did he co-operate. He let them untuck his pathetic remains, letting the hiss of surprised pity wash over him. He knew he looked horrible, he didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved, or washed, or eaten. Matt had been at his wit's end, and even his friend's tears did nothing to stir anything inside Jeremy.

Matt hadn’t wanted to call in anyone, but he was in over his head with no idea how to deal with a man this deeply depressed. Jack had taken over, making them run Jeremy a bath and calling in reinforcements. It was only when Jack went to reach for Jeremy's boxers after the man had been dumped into the tub did Jeremy come awake.

“Jack! Get out of it!” he yelped, water sloshing, now only Jeremy and jack remained in the room. Jack looked at him steadily.

“Jeremy, I’ve been a nurse, trust me I’ll be professional.” She assured him, and Jeremy smacked her hands away again.

“Get out of it! I’m serious!”

“I’m serious Jeremy if you're going to act like a child, then I’ll treat you like one. Now I get you’re depressed, I’d never make light of that, but you are developing goddamn bedsores. They need to be washed.” Jack was firm, the last thing she wanted was to hurt Jeremy more than he had, but wearing the same boxers without cleaning for so long, he'd be giving himself sores in his joints.

“I can wash my own junk Jack god!” Jeremy spat and pointed at the door. Unfortunately, Jack didn’t trust him, crossing her arms and frowning.

“No man who’s been starving himself for days and laying in bed as long as you have would suddenly decide to wash.” She pointed out, and she didn’t say why she wasn’t really leaving. She was afraid that Jeremy would let his head go under the water and never come up. With Ryan gone where no one could follow, she wasn’t losing another member of her family, especially to a more permanent separation.

Jeremy didn’t need her too, looking away from her face with guilt and annoyance warring inside him, “Fine. But ask someone else. Not you.”

“Why? I care about you, Jeremy. You know I do. I would never judge-”

“Your a girl ok? No girl is going to be flashed by me” Jeremy made himself say and the oddness cut through Jacks's sympathy and hurt as she couldn’t help chuckling.

“What? This is about a woman seeing your dick?” She couldn’t believe it when Jeremy’s face under the grime colored, “Jeremy! You are practically a little brother to me. As I said, I’ve been a nurse, and in case you’ve forgotten, I got one myself.”

“S’not right.” Jeremy muttered, raised that unless it’s your partner, no other women should see your stuff, it’s impolite, “Doesn’t matter what you got under the belt Jack, you’re a woman, and I just can’t please. Send a dude in, any dude.”

Jack opened the door and yelled out for Trevor to come back, trading with him, scoffing over Jeremy’s chivalrous nature being stronger in him than depression, nothing she’d use that if she had too. She’d do anything to make sure her lad was happy again.

Since Ryan had disappeared…

Jeremy was no better after a bath, Trevor had reported that Jeremy had refused to talk to him other than to grumble about pushy friends. He was dressed in clean boxers and one of Ryan's shirts that he had left, tight across Jeremy's shoulders but long over his waist. He had a blanket as well pulled over his shoulders and tight under his chin, staring listlessly ahead as his friends surrounded him.

Geoff had cooked breakfast, but Jeremy sat on the coffee table untouched. The others didn’t bother eating, gathering around in Matt’s small living room, Jeremy at the center of the concerned friends. Jack sat down on the coffee table in front of him and put a hand on his knee which got his attention as he pulled his leg underneath him and moved the blanket to cover his stump.

“Don’t touch me there, please.” He begged Jack, a tear unnoticed by the man who shed it, slipping down his cheek, “No one should have to touch something so ugly.”

Jack looked to Geoff who shrugged hopelessly and waved his hands at Jack to continue. Jack looked back to the broken lad who had now pulled the blanket to hide all of himself, only the moon of his miserable face visible.

“Jeremy, we are all very worried about you. This isn’t good for you or your recovery. You can’t lay in bed for the rest of your life.” Jack spoke soft and evenly getting no response from the lad.

“Come on Lil’J, buck up mate!” Gavin said from sitting beside Michael, “We miss you hanging out with us. Team lads mate.”

Jeremy looked at Gavin and blinked before sighing, “Sorry Gav, but team names are stupid. They mean nothing.”

“What?!” Choked Gavin, aghast, but Michael elbowed him in the stomach then put an arm around his shoulder, speaking to Jeremy himself.

“Just cause you don’t believe in teams anymore, don’t tell me you aren’t our fucking friend anymore. Cause we won’t accept that and I don’t care how fucking depressed you get, you’ll always be my friend.” He quieted down when Lindsay lay a hand on his shoulder from behind the couch.

Jeremy shook his head, pulling the blanket tighter, “Spare me, dude. I’m not depressed.”

Trevor let out a snort that he quickly stifled when everyone glared at him. He reddened sheepishly and mouthed ‘sorry’ as Geoff sat next to his wife. It was a little ridiculous that Jeremy, the man currently wrapped in a blanket in the midst of summer, was not depressed. The laugh had slipped out before Trevor could stop it.

That did not mean he cared any less than those gathered here, however, exchanging a look with Lindsay across the room. Geoff leaned in now, trying his best not to let the heartbreak of 

seeing one of his lads like this show on his scruffy face.

“Jeremy. You are coming home with Jack and me.” He said firmly. Now Jeremy snorted and shook his head looking at the floor.

“No thanks, I’m good here,” he replied in a dead voice.

“Ah, not a request bud. Matt is packing your shit up to go as we speak.” Geoff told him, Jeremy coming alive again, looking at him and letting the blanket fall to his shoulders.

“What?!”

“You heard me. You’re coming home with us Jeremy, where we can keep an eye on you and get you better.” They had already made up his room, and they had crutches for if he wished to get around the house without his prosthetic on, “Matt loves you, we all do, but you just wasting away in his guest room isn’t doing anyone any favors.”

Jeremy couldn’t believe it, and grew angry to cover the hurt of Matt kicking him out, “How dare you! You can’t just come in here and tell me what's gonna be what! This is fucking, kidnapping!  Yeah, this is kidnapping!”

Geoff chuckled sadly, Jack slipping her hand into his with a supportive squeeze, “Lil’J, you know we don’t care about laws. You are coming home with us, and we are going to get you help. You’ll see. You can hate us now, but we will do anything we can to see you smile again.”

“MATT!” Jeremy yelled instead of answering Geoff, spotting his friend putting bags at the door. Matt winced as he heard his name, looking to Jeremy with reddened eyes as Jeremy bellowed,  “You fucking traitor! I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend Jeremy. But I can’t help you with this. It’s outta my paygrade dude.” Matt said pleadingly, but Jeremy wouldn’t hear a word of it, turning his head back to the couple in front of him.

“I don’t want to live with you!” he spat, trying to pull the blanket over his head so he didn’t have to see anymore, vicious jealousy cutting through his gut that Ryan would never see the sad looks upon their families faces. Geoff reached out, pulling the blanket away and grabbing Jeremy's shoulders.

“Jeremy, son… You don’t want to live do you?” he asked, his voice breaking. Jeremy looked into Geoff's eyes, a darker shade of blue than Ryans had been, swimming in tears just for him. His already broken heart throbbed as the truth washed over him, his own tears spilling hot and heavy from his eyes.

“I don’t! I really don’t Geoff! It hurts! It hurts too much!” Jeremy sobbed, breaking down and falling into Geoff's arms, the gent throwing himself onto his knees to prevent Jeremy from falling. He let Jeremy wail into his shoulder, hugging him tight, “Geoff, I can’t stand it! I can’t! It’s a pain nothing will take away!”

“It’s alright Jeremy, let it out. I got you. I got you now kid. We got you. We love you. I love you, Jeremy, do you hear me? I love you. Never gonna let you fall again, lad. Never gonna let you fall.” Geoff promised fiercely to the man in his arms as their family shed their own tears for their  shared grief.

\---

Ryan, of course, had lied. He did not go to Doll’s. He didn’t want to burden Meg with himself. He didn’t tell anyone else goodbye. He just left. He never wanted anyone he loved to be dragged down with him.

“If all you’re going to do is mope, go mope at home.” Jon’s voice startled Ryan out of his, well, moping accompanied by a thump of a box hitting the counter Ryan was sitting behind, “I got fifty thousand things to do, and you are sitting smack dab in the middle of it.”

Ryan scoffed and rolled his eyes, something he could do without pain now, “Then hire some help. I’m not stopping you. In fact, I’m bankrolling this dream of yours so how about you hand  me another diet coke?”

He heard Jon pick up the one on the counter and shake it, the sloshy insides revealing the truth,  “but you’ve hardly drunk this one!” Jon exclaimed irritated as his boss folded his arms and shrugged.

“I don’t trust it.”

“You don’t trust it?”

“Yeah. So I’ll have a new one please.” Ryan asked with a smug smile as he heard Jon mutter and move off to get him one. Ryan did not trust the can he’d put down because anyone could sneak in and drop something in it without him seeing. Only if he breaks the seal and rests his palm on the top, can Ryan trust a drink.

Jon had been putting up with Ryan's paranoia since the Blinded Vagabond showed up on his doorstep, a feat in itself had taken a lot from the ‘Terror of Los Santos’. Still, Jon had owed Ryan since his investigative journalism had uncovered Ryan’s true identity and Ryan had spared him. Jon had been looking for an out of Los Santos anyway, something Ryan knew and so when he had to bail, he made Jon take him in exchange for paying for Jon’s dream.

To open a gaming shop. On The Spot.

Ryan had been a busy guy and had managed to save quite a lot, especially since joining the Fakes and his pay had gone up while his expenses had gone down. Geoff loved to take care of and spoil his crew which left room for some cunning investments and hidden accounts. Ryan was set financially for a while, but it was nothing he could retire on. 

However, thoughts of what to do with his life were far from his mind, that space taken up with thoughts of what Jeremy and their family would be doing right now. Ryan was here in Vice city, the beach a short few blocks away, the sun shining bright and yet he was trapped in the dark.

Another thump of a box and the sound of a can touching the counter declared Jon was back.

“Ryan-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Ryan growled as he grabbed his can and popped the tab practically at his lips and drank. He covered it the moment it left his lips, choosing to ignore Jon’s sigh.

“Look… The deal was, I’d help you get out of the city and set up here. I’ve done that, I’ve upheld my end of the bargain.” Jon explained a tad impatiently as Ryan stared at nothing, his white eyes showing none of the emotions behind them.

“In return, I buy a shop and call it On the Spot where you can sell gaming merchandise of all kinds, complete with a back room for people to use for tabletop games and for you to run your little improv show out of. I think I’ve also upheld my end of the bargain.” Ryan pointed out calmly.

“Right.” Jon sounded relieved that Ryan understood. Ryan took another careful sip of his drink. Ryan could tell Jon hadn’t left because he hadn’t heard his footsteps. After a few moments, Jon breathed out in a huff, “So, um, don’t you think you should go home? To the place, I set up for you? Would you like a guide to the bus?”

“Oh, I’m not leaving.” Ryan said matter of factly, “See, you asked me to buy this place for you. You never said to put it in your name.” Small things in life did still please Ryan such as the disbelief that choked Jon as Ryan continued, “You asked to run it. You never specified how. So congratulations you are the Manager of MY shop, and I am the owner and your boss.”

Apparently, his enjoyment of winning had not been taken with his sight. 

Only his love, his family, his livelihood and his independence. His smile dropped at that cold though, and he dropped his head again. He could only imagine how quickly Jeremy was bouncing back with all their family around him. Ryan reached up to feel under his shirt where his ring rested on a necklace.

He missed Jeremy with an ache in his chest where Jeremy's head used to rest when they cuddled up. Jeremy was his best friend, his lover, his constant companion. The feeling of Jeremy's arms around his waist, his head on Ryan's shoulder as they drove through the city on Ryan’s bike was one of Ryan's favorite feelings in the world.

Something he’d never get back. He’d never be able to drive a motorbike again. As for Jeremy… He pressed his ring harder against his chest under his shirt. 

“Excuse me; we are not open yet,” Jon said polite but firm near the front door. Ryan turned his head in that direction.

“Oh, we’re just looking around.” A sly voice Ryan recognized as trouble spoke now, the sound of more than one person walking in and the grunt of Jon being shoved. Ryan stood up, A frown pulling at his face, setting his coke down.

“Who are you? What do you want?” He demanded to know, ears straining for anything he could use to orientate himself. He smelt smoke and whiskey, leaning back as someone leaned on the counter towards him.

“Wow, nice eyes pretty boy.” They sniggered in front of him, obviously however many there were, they were pawing through things by the noise they were making. Perhaps even armed since he had not heard another objection by Jon nor did he hear Jon get up. Thankfully he could hear Jon’s soft sounds of irritation at the people going through his merchandise, or he would have assumed Jon was knocked out or dead.

To Ryan, this was a familiar play. These were goons of some gang here to piss all over the place to make it their territory. Three, maybe four, bullies and amateurs. Vagabond could mince these idiots in moments, send a survivor or two home crying to whatever boss they had. 

But Ryan was no Vagabond.

“Look, as you’ve surely figured out, I am blind. I wish no trouble for my shop. If you just tell my Manager all the details he needs to pay a protection fee monthly, we will do that. If you come back tomorrow, we’ll have the down payment of…” He trailed off, waiting for the ringleader to supply a number. Apparently, he was right assuming these men were not the brains of their gang.

“Ah… What?” Came the confused answer. Ryan couldn’t help himself; he had to sigh. He wished so badly for his sight, to be able to kill these morons who will take his money for no other reason than to leave them alone.

“This is a shakedown yes? I knew when I bought this shop that Vice city had a few gangs around still. I am prepared to pay a fee. As you can see, we are just opening up. I’ll give you a down payment of five thousand dollars tomorrow in exchange for leaving us be to set up and open for a month.” Ryan explained slower for them to really let it sink in. From the silence, he guessed they were all listening now, “If you gentleman could bring around your immediate boss tomorrow, I’d be happy to give you all a hundred dollar bonus for your cooperation.”

“I-I ah, s-sure?” Came the hesitant reply, this had not gone the way they thought it would. A little bit of the Vagabond came out the way Ryan nodded curtly and put a hand on someone's forearm and shoved them off his counter.

“Good. Jon? Can you take down the details we need? Also, give them our names and the phone number for the shop.” He instructed firmly, knowing men like this had no idea what to do when faced with spine and determination. As Jon did as he was instructed and the gang filed out, Ryan felt his way over to where he had heard Jon set up stands where various cosplay equipment was stored.

“Boss… Are you sure you-” Jon stopped and restarted his sentence, “What are you doing?”

“Yes, I do just want to pay them. It’s easiest.” Ryan answered the first part, not the second, running his hands over the objects already put out, feeling for something that might suit his needs. He skipped over anything that felt as if it were a weapon and paused when he felt smooth wood under his fingers, “What am I touching?”

“The cane from Suicide Squad. The one the Joker uses.” Jon told him, his voice turning quizzical, “Are you sure about this? I mean I would have expected you of all people-”

“I. AM. BLIND.” Ryan bit out forcefully, turning with the cane in his hand, swinging it out and hearing Jon’s surprised exclamation as he jumped back. Ryan set the end down on the ground and leaned a little weight on it as he reached towards the display wall, glossing over bags and wallets until he felt cloth, “It’s time I accepted that. You should also do the same. I told you Vagabond would be left in Los Santos. This is it; this is me. Just plain old James. The disabled.”

He tucked the cane under his arm so he could wrap the cloth around his head, covering his white eyes and the surrounding tissue damage, “Call me a Taxi. I’m going back to my apartment. You can get out the money this afternoon.” 

Ryans head dropped, and he used the cane to tap his way out of the store and into the street, counting the steps to the taxi ring. He could go to a space he could call him, but it would never be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the comments so far! every comment i get i work a little more on this!  
> Sorry i'm a day late, i was dumb, this chapter was completely done but i failed to inform my wonderful and talented editor of that cause I dumb lol but don't worry the next chapter is almost complete and this time i actually gave my editor the link to it...MY BAD PEOPLE SORRY! anyways hope you enjoyed another round of 'so you think the last chap was bad?'


	6. Love is Monotonous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time and life goes on whether they want it too or not

Every moment of Ryan's life was the same. Since leaving Jeremy, his family and Los Santos six months ago, he lived in perpetual darkness, both figuratively and literally.

Every morning he awoke in his single bed, unable to bear anything bigger, unable to bear the slightest chance someone could have lain beside him His eyes snapped open to show the same never ending blackness he fell asleep in, never changing, never altering. He reached by instinct to stop the ring of his alarm and sat up, casting the blankets from him as he swung his legs to the floor.

Never had he been so clean and organized, but he found it was easier than tripping over clothes in the morning. By touch he knew the bedroom well, knew how many steps it took to the drawers, knew which drawers held which items. He bought mostly dark clothing so no matter what he put on, it would match. It was a simple matter to find the size tag than put on his clothes the right way, placing his discarded ones in the laundry basket.

Than he opened a top drawer and pulled out one of his bandannas, the cool feeling of cloth over his eyes soothing. The fact he was hiding his eyes from the world in a way that let everyone know he was damaged appealed to his sense of theatricality. He slipped his knife into his back pocket. Blind, he was useless, but he refused to be defenseless. His keys and phone went in one side pocket, his wallet in the other.

He straightened his bed and when he left his bedroom, he grabbed his long cane from where it leaned beside the door. He knew it was black with matching silver tip and grip because that was what he told Jon to order for him. A few taps and he was in his kitchen for an easy breakfast of toast.

His phone went off, the alarm reminding him was time to leave. Ryan turned it off with a swipe of his thumb and headed out of his apartment. He tapped his way to the elevator then downstairs he went to the lobby.

“Good Morning James.” greeted the receptionist and Ryan turned to nod in her direction.

“Morning.” he replied evenly, spurning any chance for a more elaborate conversation. He left as quickly as he could and made his way down to the bus stop. He knew the route now, and he heard people give way out of pity rather than fear. People seemed to think it was ok to touch him, to use his elbow to guide him onto the bus without a word all in the name of ‘help’. It made his teeth ache from clenching his jaw when people did that.

He tapped his way to Jon’s shop, pushing the front door wide open as he came in. The store sounded empty of customers, something Jon confirmed when he greeted Ryan.

“Hey boss! Doesn’t look like it’ll be a busy day so, you know, you didn’t have to come in.” he said brightly than added under his breath, “Like I told you yesterday.”

“And the day before that, and the day before that. I’m blind Jon, not deaf.” Ryan moved to his accustomed seat, noting in the back of his mind he was going to get fat if all he did was sit around, “Did the Labos come in yesterday after I left?”

“Sure did Boss.” Jon reported, putting a Diet Coke on the counter near Ryan’s hand as the blind man fished out his book, learning how to read braille had been time consuming and he still was not the best, but he practised every chance he got. Which was a lot when you had nothing else to do with your life then sit and practise. Jon just wished he’d practice elsewhere. He was not a comforting presence but Jon supposed he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Hey Boss?”

“Hmm?”

“You ever consider going out?”

Ryan snorted and waved a hand in front of his face, one of his favourite things to do when mocking his own blindness. He could almost hear the eye roll Jon gave before he started, Jon’s hands cool on his, pinning his hand against the book in his lap.

“No, I’m serious. Get out of here, take a walk around the city, visit the beach. You’re blind, not dead. I mean, what do you even do on the days we’re closed?” Jon asked soft and kind. Ryan threw Jon’s hands off and swung with the book, making Jon jump back. Ryan grinned savagely as he heard Jon’s cry of pain and the sound of him falling over when his leap back made him crash into something, a display stand no doubt.

“None of your business what I do!” Ryan snapped at him, grin disappearing as fast as it came. He heard Jon’s sigh deeply then the sounds of him picking up things and righting the stand he had knocked over.

“It is my business because you are getting in the way of THIS business.” Jon said a bit more shortly than he intended, “You sitting there, growling at anyone who dares asks you a question and lashing out when you think people are trying to touch you are driving away customers.”

“Well they should learn personal space!” Ryan defended himself shortly.

“You should learn the whole world isn’t out to get you.” Jon snapped back. Ryan got to his feet to gesture angrily in response, full of rage that Jon would ever imply that.

“The whole city is out to get me! I’m the most wanted mercenary there is!”

“YOU ARE NOT IN LOS SANTOS ANYMORE! YOU ARE NOT THE VAGABOND!” Jon’s answer silenced him. Ryan dropped back into his seat, as Jon dropped his voice, shifting closer but this time not attacked, “you are not the vagabond. I am sorry this happened to you, but you said it yourself remember? You are not wanted here, no one would ever suspect your identity. It’s the whole reason you insisted we set up here. Now you either need to accept, truly accept, that you are no longer that man or you need to leave.”

Ryan's voice was as dead as his spirit, “You can’t kick me out of my own shop…”

Jon sounded regretful but firm, “What are you going to do about it? Call the cops? Turn me in?” Ryan flinched from the hand that fell on his shoulder, “Ryan… we can be friends. I can help you. But buddy, you gotta let me in and you, my friend, need to go out. Tomorrow is Sunday, we’re closed and if you like, you and I can go to the boardwalk for lunch. Think about it?”

Jon left him there to mull over his words and open up the door to begin the day.

\---

“It’s here!” Geoff crowed to his wife, bringing in the package that contained Jeremy's new leg. Jack smiled to see it, hoping this would bring something other than the pokerface Jeremy was wearing for months now. Jeremy had raged and sobbed and fought against coming to live with Jack and Geoff, only for a week after to become stone faced and calm.

Jeremy had come out one morning, the temporary false leg in place, and asked the two for their forgiveness. They had told him there was nothing to forgive and hugged him. Since than he’d been working tirelessly to get back to his fitness level before his capture and slowly get back out in the field doing jobs with the other lads.

Now Geoff held in his hands the package with Jeremy's properly fitted, custom made leg. Jack smiled at her husband than yelled out in the direction of Jeremy's room, “Jeremy! Package for you!”

“Awesome.” Jeremy said in a dead voice as he opened his door and hopped out using his crutch to get around the house. Geoff could barely suppress his excitement, presenting the box to Jeremy and pressing it under his nose only for the lad to push it back, “Let me get to the couch before you knock me over.”

Geoff groaned as Jack rolled her eyes, Geoff impatient to cheer up Jeremy “Well hurry up slowpoke! I think you’ll really like this!”

Jeremy took it steady to the couch and sat down, placing his crutch beside him before lifting his hands, “lets get this over with.”

Jack watched anxiously as Geoff put the box in Jeremy’s lap. Geoff backed up and took Jack’s hand, giving it a squeeze as they watched him start to open the parcel. They scanned his face, hoping for some kind of reaction, not caring if he bounced in excitement or burst into tears.Anything was better than the zombie Jeremy had become.

Jeremy wasn’t a fool. He knew from the size and shape it would be his fitted leg. What he didn’t expect was to open it up and see orange pop out at him. In hindsight he should have realised what the two would do for him.

_“What do you think?” Jeremy asked as he spun on the spot, orange chino’s, purple jacket and a white stetson perched on his head._

_“I think you look like you’re part of the lollipop guild.” Ryan answered his boyfriend with a chuckle. Jeremy’s face deflated and he looked back into the mirror with big eyes, looking over his colour choices._

_“Really?” He asked glumly. Ryan immediately backtracked, coming up behind him and wrapping arms around him, placing a chin on his shoulder._

_“Hey, if you like it than I love it.” He assured Jeremy, “You wanna do your Rimmy tim colours from your wrestling days, then I think that's a great way to express yourself in the crew.”_

_“It’s not too much?” Jeremy asked, looking at Ryan in the mirror, touching the brim of his hat and feeling vulnerable. Ryan's face broke into his charming smile, eyes meeting Jeremy’s._

_“Never.”_

“It’s too much.” Jeremy said firmly, pushing the box onto the coffee table without even taking the leg out to try it. Geoff made a noise of soft distress and moved forward a step.

“No! No it isn’t! It’s money well spent Lil’J.-”

“Not the money Geoff, the colours!” Jeremy said a little sharper than he intended. He threw the top of the box back onto it so he didn’t have to look at the blend of purple and orange over metal and plastic, “I’m your sniper. That’s too eye catching. It needs to be darker. Yeah, darker, like maybe . . . black. Paint it black.”

“But Jeremy… those are your colours.” Jack almost pleaded, putting hands together in front of her, worried for the changes she saw in her young crewman. He was becoming distant, cold. All the life had been sucked out of Jeremy when Ryan walked out. All that was left was this empty shell that walked and talked like Jeremy, but had none of his fire, his humour.

“They were once Jack. But I grew up. Seriously, you think I’m gonna risk my neck with one leg and a target strapped where the second one used to be? Hell nah. Paint it black.” Jeremy didn’t even look at them, getting up and positioning his crutch under his arm. He took a few hops into the hallway than paused, turning around to look at them, “Thanks. For the leg. I’ll try it on later when my knee isn’t aching like a bitch.”

The words were Jeremy’s but they were delivered with none of the feeling. He hopped back to his room, leaving the couple to fret and talk in peace. Jeremy supposed it must be nice to have someone to immediately share your concerns with.

He resolutely shoved those thoughts away, sitting on his bed and laying his crutch down. Picking up the weights he had been working with for the past week he went right back to building the muscles in his arms. He had grown soft during his time in recovery and if he wanted to get back to heists, he needed to prove himself in smaller missions again. They wouldn’t trust him with a gun, but tonight he was going with Michael and Geoff to play muscle for a simple handoff.

Jeremy would not let anything get in the way of his goal. He would become an active member of the crew once more.

 

Michael came over before the job early to join them for dinner. Jack had painted Jeremy's leg black, and given it to him once it had dried so when Jeremy appeared, he was without his useaul crutch.

Michael whistled to when he saw Jeremy walk into the room, no stomping around on an ill fitting foot, now walking almost smoothly. He still had a slightly stiff limp, but that was to be expected and was hardly noticeable. He was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt with a leather jacket. A beanie sat atop his head covering the regrowth of his hair.

“Looking good Lil’J.” Michael complimented but Jeremy snorted.

“A light breeze could knock me down.”

“Luckily were having this meeting inside, no breezes.” Geoff said walking up to Jeremy and pressing a gun into his chest, “Its not loaded. This is just to show you are walking fine, and the rumours are false. You and Vagabond have been on a sabbatical and you’re back now.”

“God forbid Vagabond’s reputation be fucking dirtied right?” Michael said pointedly.

“Helping or hurting, Michael?”Geoff grumbled at his younger crewmate, “Helping or hurting?”

Jeremy looked at the gun with its empty chambers, knuckles white with how hard he gripped it but he slid it into holster without a word. Michael likewise went quiet, but more for Jeremy’s sake than Geoff’s. All of the crew had been heard when Ryan had left so suddenly, without even a goodbye.

“Let’s do this than Boss.” Jeremy said firmly, making for the door.

“Jeremy wait.” Jack stopped him, coming out of the hallway and pressing something into his palm, “In case things go south.”

Jeremy looked down and saw the hilt of a pocket knife. He scoffed and wouldn’t close his hand around it, pulling his arm back so the knife would fall, “Don’t insult me Jack. Aren’t you afraid i’ll prick my finger or something?”

“No, I just don’t want you to be defenseless-”

“I’m not defenseless!” Jeremy snapped, followed by a bitter smile, “I’ve got my unloaded gun remember? Now excuse me but I need to get back to work before I find a way to kill myself with a couch cushion.”

“Jeremy!” Geoff scolded as the lad walked by him, Michael turning to walk with him out into the hall. Geoff made to start after him but Jack lay a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s just lashing out Geoff. They both are. Keep them safe out there.”

“I will.” Geoff promised his wife and cupped her face, giving her a quick kiss, “You called Trevor?”

Jeremy didn't hear the gents the moment he stepped into the hall and went to wait by the elevator. He crossed his arms while Michael leaned on the wall next to him, absently scuffing a foot against the carpet. Jeremy would do the same, but his balance still wasn’t great with his new leg, the straps around his thigh uncomfortably tight but at least securing it onto his stump of a calf better than the old leg did.

“You know, it’s cool if you wanna be angry.” Michael’s voice was so soft, Jeremy almost missed it, “I mean he did fuck off. I’d be pretty pissed if it were me. Actually I'm pretty pissed anyway the way he just dumped-”

“Lucky your not me then .” Jeremy said tightly, “I can feel my own feelings Michael. How about you concentrate on the job instead of my love life?”

“Fuck your love life man, he left the crew” Michael snapped shortly, eyes flicking up to meet his angrily, “You, Gavin, Ryan, you’re like my brothers and he decided to just turn his back on family? It ain’t fucking right Lil’ J and you know it.”

“Ready to ride lads?” Geoff asked loudly before he’d even reached them.

Jeremy spent the ride silent and locked within his own thoughts. Though he’d done small jobs here and there, Geoff and Jack had been keeping him out of the main crew business. He understood that they did it because they cared but he was anxious to get back in the thick of things.

He hoped maybe if he could start working himself hard, perhaps he could stop dreaming of Ryan's face, his touch, his laugh. Everywhere he turned, he was reminded he was alone. Jeremy felt like he was in some sick Rom-com and he hated it, despised that everytime he looked out the car window and saw people holding hands.

He still wore his ring on a chain around his neck, he couldn’t bear to take it off, but neither could he look at it.

Till death do we part….

Jeremy snorted at the thought, Michael giving him a questioning glance that he ignored. More like till pain do we part. He never figured Ryan for a runner, and yet, here they were. He’d finally found something the great Vagabond couldn’t handle.

A broken husband when what Ryan needed most was someone who could support him.

“Here we are lads, now remember, these guys are below our notice.What we really want is for them to join us as underlings. No better place to start showing you off Jeremy.” Geoff reminded them, Michael checking his weapons in case things went south. Jeremy had no working weapon to check so he just nodded and muttered under his breath.

“Too bad you don’t have Vagabond here to show off instead.” Geoff met those sullen words with a frown and a finger pointed at him.

“Look, I get you’re still hurting, but if you don’t wanna do this job you can wait here and sulk all you like.”

“I’m coming with you.” Jeremy refused to be left behind. Geoff reluctantly agreed, privately thinking perhaps it was too soon for Jeremy to rejoin the main team. An opinion that was confirmed a few moments later when the worst happened.

They entered the building and were directed to the back room for the meeting. The moment they stepped through, there was harsh laughter from a man with burns over one cheek, eyes locked on the black clad sniper.

“Well if it’s not my very favorite pirate! How's the Peg leg Pegged boy?”

Jeremy's scream of anguish and rage was all the warning Michael and Geoff had before Jeremy threw himself at one of the men who had ripped him apart those long months ago before the crew rescued the battle buddies...


	7. Love is a Firefight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is full of rage  
> Ryan is full of shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late!  
> It's been a rough time for me outside the internet atm and it affected my ability to create   
> Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The moment Jeremy had heard the taunt, had seen the man, he’d recognised him. Even with burn scars over his face and down his arm, Jeremy knew him well. He was the one who laughed as others held Jeremy down and wielded the saw.

 

No one had a chance to react before Jeremy threw himself at is tormentor. His leg was still unsteady beneath him and the burned man knew that, shoving out to knock Jeremy over. It was too easy, with Jeremy's balance gone, to deflect the attack so Jeremy was sent sprawling. The man Jeremy had tried to attack laughed, “ Lookey at the Broken Rimmy tim huh?”

 

Geoff didn’t hesitate, he pulled his gun, Michael doing the same. When the leader kept reaching, Geoff shot him clear through the shoulder, “Listen here assholes. There is no ‘broken’ here. So don’t even think of grabbing guns or we won’t go for shoulder next time.” The red head with the burns was no longer laughing, his new crew hesitating, not willing to risk a firefight over him and geoff looked him dead in the eye, “Nathaniel. I thought you burnt with your crew.”

 

“You thought wrong Ramsey.” Nate snarled, fingers twitching towards his holster, hands going up when another gunshot rung out, this time blowing the wall apart inches from his face. Geoff squared the gun on his chest the threat clear as he extended his other hand to Jeremy to help him up.

 

“Dean, you got yourself a real bad choice for a new crew mate. How much you value him?” Geoff asked the other crew’s boss who was holding his shoulder, blood leaking through his fingers and teeth locked in a grimace.

 

“Fucking have him. I don’t need more of a mess then I got.” Dean spat out in pain, Nate shot him a snarl for turning him over so quickly. Jeremy got back to his feet with Geoff's help, ready to launch himself at Nate again but Geoff put a hand on his chest holding him back without taking his eyes off Nathaniel. Dean looked Jeremy over and smiled through his pain, “Whatever helps the ah, battle buddies find their…  _ footing. _ ”

 

Jeremy flinched at the barb.

 

“All right fuck that.” Michael growled. BAM. He fired, shooting Dean through the forehead. Geoff’s mouth popped open and he only had a moment to glare at Michael before he was shoving Jeremy back and firing at the crew that was starting to fire on them.   
  
“The fuck you do that for?!” Geoff yelled at Michael as the lad pulled down the vending machine in the back room for cover. As they were heading for cover, Nate took the opportunity to leg it through the exit, Jeremy seeing him from his prone position and trying to crawl after him.

 

“No one fucking stands there and insults my fucking family!” Michael yelled back before firing over the top of the machine. Geoff growled to himself, grabing Jeremy by the shirt and wrestling him back into cover. Jeremy was a mad thing, his leg was throwing him off when all he wanted was to rip, to tear, to  _ destroy _ his tormentor.

 

“We can’t let him get away! NATHANIEL! Get back here and FIGHT ME!” Jeremy screamed, struggling against Geoff, wanting to follow his enemy who had ducked out the moment the firefight had broken out.

 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK, fuck! Jeremy! Jeremy listen to me!” Geoff tried to shake sense into the lad, thumping his head against the machine and cursing as Jeremy's hand smacking him across the face in his desperation to get away. Geoff turned his head and activated his com, “Vagabond! Get in here! Operation: Fuck up those rumours!”

 

That cut through the blind raging pain Jeremy was experiencing, stopping and going still, looking to Geoff in surprise. Ryan was Here? Ryan was back? Geoff ignored the look, taking advantage of Jeremy’s sudden lack of resistance to return fire. Between himself and Michael they cleared out some of the angry gangsters before the doors broke open and the Vagabond was silhouetted in the door frame.

 

Jeremy felt time slow, the pause between his heartbeats stretching forever.

 

The Jacket, the Mask. It was all the same. Ryan stood before him, the darkened sockets of the skull fixed on the enemy's. Bullets hit his chest as he stood there, absorbed by the kevlar underneath no doubt as he took two steps into the room. His husband was back.

 

_ “You are soooo extra.” Jeremy chuckled from the bed, laying on his stomach, legs in the air and chin cradled in his hands as he watched his husband apply makeup in the vanity mirror. Ryan had snorted, fondly glaring at him through his reflection. _

 

_ “What does that even mean?” he asked with a laugh of his own. Jeremy had shrugged, grinning widely at him. He adored seeing Ryan like this, to watch the transformation of Ryan haywood, professional worrywort into The Vagabond, professional badass. _

 

_ “It means, only you would decide that a skull mask isn’t enough. That you have to paint an extra skull underneath… just in case.” jeremy pointed out sarcastically, “God forbid you take off the mask and find a human there.” _

 

_ “Coming from our resident oompa loompa?” _

 

_ “Ay!” _ __   
  


_ “Cause your purple and orange Baby, nothing to do with the height.” Ryan assured him before going back to applying the makeup that would make his blue eyes seem almost colourless once the mask was on. _

 

Jeremy's heart broke all over again as this Vagabond past by him to intimidate the other crew into either running or surrendering. The height was close, but not quite right. And those shoulders were too thin. In fact the whole body was too slender to be his Ryan now he looked closer. But the most obvious give away were they eyes. Brown.

 

All it took was the appearance of the vagabond and it was over. So strong was the reputation of the mercenary that his appearance and the nonchalant way he took the first hail of bullets was enough to have them begging for Ramsey to forgive them. Geoff made a deal with the new head of the small crew and Jeremy stayed against the vending machine, refusing to even look at the Fake Vagabond that stayed by Geoff’s side.

 

When it was done, geoff came to collect him but Jeremy slapped his hand away. He glared up at his boss, than at the false vagabond. He didn’t have to say a word for Geoff to understand how disgusted Jeremy was. Ryan was replaceable in the Bosses eyes. Jeremy would accept no ones help, using the machine to push up, getting his leg underneath him. 

 

He limped out of the room, shoving Michael when his lad tried to speak to him. Thankfully the Falsabond didn’t touch him or Jeremy would have tried to kill them. He didn’t know who was under the mask and he didn’t care. Tonight he’d seen Nate once more and watched him get away. He’d seen his husband return than had that ripped away from him. 

 

Fuck this crew.

 

Fuck everyone.

 

Fuck the world.

 

“Jeremy! Where the fuck are you going?” Michael ran after him, as Jeremy past the car and kept heading down the street, “I just fucking killed a dude for you and your going to just dump-”

 

“I NEVER ASKED YOU TOO!!” Jeremy roared, spinning on the sidewalk and having to snatch at the lightpost to stay upright, “YOU SHOT THE WRONG FUCKING MAN MICHAEL!”

 

Michaels hands came up, showing they were empty and his face hardened, “Well excuse fucking me! I would have shot that asshole but I was hoping we’d capture him then you could-”   
  


“NOT NATHANIEL!” Jeremy shouted, cutting him off again, unable to bear the thought that Nate was out there, focusing instead on his pain, taking a threatening step towards Michael that turned into a trip. He grabbed Michaels collar, steadying himself and putting his face in his old friends, “ _ Me!... _ if you loved me, you would have shot  _ meee…” _

 

Jeremy searched Michaels face, seeing the anger dissipate, replaced by pity that burnt him to his core, “Fuck off Michael. Go the fuck home. You can’t do me any favours anymore. I was fucking dead when you found me. I should have stayed dead.”

 

“Jeremy you can’t-” Jeremy shoved him, pushing off into a hobbled run, tears burning in his eyes and his chest on fire, his heart pounding with pain.

 

Jeremy knew now he couldn’t go back to how things were. He’d never get back the crew. He never should have tried. Ryan had been right. Ryan had always been fucking right. Things could never be as they were again. Some holes were too deep to get out of.

 

_ Jeremy had never felt so much pain. Not just physically, but to watch his leg come off, to see it detached before his eyes. He was baffled by it. His mind could not accept it. He had seen it, he could feel it, all the clues were there. But his mind refused to acknowledge it had happened. _

 

_ They threw him into his cell, had tossed his leg after him. Ryan had been there only briefly, his eyes and face a mess, wailing about his sight. Jeremy had only a chance to grasp his arm before they were peeling them apart. They taunted but Jeremy understood none of the words.  _

 

_ He just wanted Ryan. _

 

_ But Ryan was pulled from him and Jeremy was left alone. That’s how he was found, cradling his severed leg for days after losing it, even as the flesh went soft beneath his fingers. He had looked up when the door opened and had seen Geoff. His hopes had soared. _

 

_ “I saved it. Caleb can reattach can’t he?” Jeremy had asked his boss, his friend, his mentor. Geoff could solve this, Geoff solved all their problems. He could fix this too. Jeremy knew he could. He didn’t understand why Geoff’s face crumpled. Why he had started to weep.  _

 

_ He understood now. There was some things that could not be fixed. Jeremy stared at his bandaged stump for as long as he was conscious. Only when they moved him into Ryan's bed had he awoken to his new reality, curling into the taller man who was no longer larger, both had lost alarming amounts of weight and muscle during captivity. _

 

_ “Ryan… Ryan baby, they… they hurt me baby they-” Jeremy wanted to tell him, wanted ryan to hold him, mourn with him, swear vengeance. But Ryan's arms constricted around his as much as he could in his weakened state, bowing his bandaged face into jeremy's shoulder and starting to sob, deep racking one's Jeremy had never seen Ryan do before. _

 

_ “They blinded me Jeremy! They took my sight! Jeremy! My eyes! They can’t be fixed! I’m blind! I’m BLIND!” Ryan howled his grief and jeremy had started to stroke his hair automatically, curling his stump away as it sent phantom pain shooting up what remained of his limb. _

 

_ “Shh. I got you baby. I’m here Ryan. I’m here…” _

 

\--

 

“No!” Ryan said firmly when he came in the next day after Jon’s discussion with him. He had heard Jons footsteps and recognised his breathing at the counter. Ryan had taped his way over than lifted his cane to smack down on the counter. Jon, didn’t seem to react by the sounds of it accept for a soft noise of amusement.

 

“Good morning Boss. How are you?” Jon smiled softly at Ryan, knowing the man couldn’t see it. Jon had always admired the vagabond. Despite his reputation for ferocity, whenever Jon managed to speak to him in his role as a journalist informant, he was always charming, witty and intelligent. Since seeing his face, even with the bandana around his eyes, Jon had to add handsome to the list. Jon had nothing but respect and sympathy for the man before him.

 

It was still fun to tease however. Jon was determined to dig out Ryan's sense of humour wherever he hid it under all that pain.

 

“How am I? I’m great because we are NOT friends.” Ryan growled at him, the red under the black cover his eyes was that much clearer. Jon wondered if Ryan knew his face was more expressive now. Or perhaps that was because Jon was used to him in a mask.

 

“That’s why I said Boss and not Buddy.” Jon pointed out, smile dropping as he saw Ryan flinch. He had meant to tease not hurt and took a step back at the ferocity ryan yelled at him, the finger stabbed in his direction sending legitimate fear, blind or not, Jon knew Ryan was a dangerous man.

 

“You are not my BUDDY! You will  _ never _ be my Buddy!” Ryan roared slamming his hand on the bench than turning with his stick, starting to storm out. Jon took a second to breath before moving.

 

“Wait!” he called, coming around the counter and moving in front of Ryan hands out in a useless gesture to ward him from the door, “Wait, please. I’m sorry. I meant… I was just trying to get you smiling. It was a little joke is all, please. Please just come back, sit in your chair, I’ll get you your drink and you can tell me all my failings hmm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

Ryan turned the offer over suspiciously, “Non-alcoholic?”

 

“Ryan. Its 8 am and your blood is like fifty percent diet coke. Of course I was meaning a whiskey.” Jon said sarcastically, letting his hands drop to his sides since Ryan was hesitating.

 

“Well I don’t know that do I? I can’t see your facial expressions!”

 

“Sarcasm is in the tone Ryan! It’s always been in the tone!” 

 

“Fine! But I want to crack the can.” Ryan insisted stubbornly, making his way to his customary seat. Jon sighed and shook his head fondly at the paranoid man as he slipped into the back room to get ryan his diet coke. Jon was a sucker for people in need and he never met a person more in need than Ryan haywood. Not because of blindness but because of his sheer stubbornness to accept the changes life had bought him.

 

Jon came back, looking over the man in the seat, fingers drumming on his cane. Ryan had lost weight, but it was coming back with good eating and plenty of diet coke. The muscle however was not coming back without exercise, something Ryan didn’t even consider. So he had a very soft look, very different to the Vagabond Jon was used too.

 

Ryan's hair was short now, and uneven. Jon supposed Ryan had pulled his hair into a ponytail than cut it off. He’d love to fix it for him, but he knew Ryan would only respond with suspicion and distrust. Than again, Ryan regarded everything with suspicion and distrust.

 

Jon placed the can down with an audible clink so ryan knew it was there. He smiled as Ryan cracked the can, and took a deep gulp of it. It was so easy to please Ryan once you knew what he was like, and understood where he was coming from. Jon knew Ryan could be happy, if only he gave himself the chance.

 

“So.” Jon prompted softly, curious as to what had started today's declaration.

 

“So what?”

 

“So… Why you coming in here all gung ho about announcing we are not friends?”

 

“Oh... “ Ryan took another sip of his drink, something Jon had noticed Ryan does when he wanted to gather his thoughts, “Well. I was thinking on what you said yesterday and. We can’t be friends.”

 

Jon raised a brow and held back a scoff. He wanted to get to the bottom of Ryan’s feelings and didn’t want to sabotage it by giving Ryan something to be offended over, “Can I ask why? I mean, I don’t know about you, but the only people I know in this city is you and the jerks who take our protection fee. Now between the two options, I’d rather have lunch with you.”

 

“Why would you want that?” Ryan asked instead of answering. He didn’t understand why Jon was trying with him. Ryan had done nothing but threaten and insult Jon. He had forced the man to give up his life in Los santos, simply because Ryan hadn’t wanted to move alone. Jon by all rights should hate him.

 

Ryan heard Jon sigh and the sound of him leaning against the counter, “Because, I think you got a bad deal of the cards here. Because I think you kinda need a friend right now. And because I would kinda like one too.” Jon answered honestly as he could without telling Ryan what would truly scare him off.

 

Ryan considered it carefully before answering, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have one lunch date,” Jons heart stuttered at Ryan's wording but he didn’t make a noise, “you know, to see if we could be friends.”

 

“Sounds good Rye.” Ryan had flinched at the nickname, making Jon cringle his eyebrows in confusion. Ryan seemed hurt by the strangest things.

 

“Don’t call me that. Ryan is fine… actually… even better. Call me James. Ryan doesn’t belong here.” Ryan belonged in Los Santos, with his husband and their family. Ryan belonged To a happier time, filled with laughter and love, camaraderie and fun. 

 

James belonged here, In the dark and in exile.

 

“Ok. If that's what you want. Jamie.” Jon teased lightly and Ryan smiled softly. Jamie. Yes, maybe Ryan could take a new nickname. From a new friend.


	8. Love is Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call changes everything

Life was very different for Ryan without his sight. Over thirty years he had spent with it as his main sense, now, the most common of situations gave him a feeling of new wonder. The first thing to do when walking into a bar, was to scan over the occupants, looking for any visual signs of threats. Then it was looking at the bar itself, its cleanliness, its space, to determine how formal he must be. Finally, it was inspecting what they had for sale, looking over the alcohol options to get an idea of whether this was a place for rowdy arguments or quiet contemplations.

Ryan was learning new ways of determining his surroundings. From the quiet murmur, he understood this was a place of conversation and friends. From the delicious scents, he could establish it was a place of food more than drunkness. From the way, the chair didn’t squeak as he sat and the smooth dustless tabletop, he could infer this place was caring about its customers and its reputation.

Immediately Ryan started listening for comments about himself, his appearance and was not disappointed. Some people were chatting a few tables away in low voices about Ryan's choice to blindfold himself. Others standing a little distance on the other side expressed sympathy for his cane. Ryan's hands tightened on his cane in his lap as he listened, wanting to prove to everyone looking at him with pity that he was not a charity case.

“Hello! Sorry, I’m late Jamie! Parking was horrible. Can’t find a place anywhere.” Jon’s voice distracted Ryan from the people around him, face turning to where Jon’s voice came from. There was a noise of something heavy being placed on the floor and then Jon shucking a jacket of some kind, “how long were you waiting?”

“I was a few minutes late myself. It's a bit hard to find places without seeing the signs.” Ryan pointed out with his usual bitterness.

“Well, you found it find. Did you ask for help?” Jon asked curiously, Ryan hearing when his hands came off the table in a warding gesture after he fixed an unamused expression his way, “Sorry, I meant, did you stop anyone for directions?”

“No. I found it just fine.” Ryan said stubbornly, crossing his own arms. He had found it by following Siri's voice instructions than walking into two wrong doors to other shops and dining places before finding the correct one.

“Please. You definitely went into the wrong place a few times till you walked in here.” Jon snorted Ryan both admiring Jons deductive skills and being irritated by them.

“So what if I did?” Ryan challenged, ready to storm out already. It was stupid to do this, to see Jon outside of store hours. He should just leave now. The whole point of bribing Jon had been to spare Ryan's friends and Family the shame of babying him. If they become friends, then Ryan would be doing to Jon what he hadn’t wanted to do to a friend, “Look this was a bad idea. Thanks for inviting me but-”

“Woah Woah Woah!” Jon said rapidly as Ryan half rose from his seat, “Come on James, you can’t duck out already. Look, just… Just eat with me? Listen to the game and if by the end of it you want to go back to being a professional sulk at the store, then fine.”

Ryan slowly sunk back into his seat and there was a soft pause before he mumbled, “I don’t sulk.”

“Course you don’t Jamie. You like wings?” Jon asked him brightly, unconcerned by his attitude.

“Yeah. Of course, I like wings.”

“Excellent. Then I'll order us a shared bowl.” Ryan found himself a meer ten minutes later, eating messily with his fingers as Jon spoke over the game they were meant to be listening too. Apparently, Jon hadn’t wanted to be a reporter, but he needed the money to open a store. Before he knew it, he’d been neck deep in the workings of Los Santos with no way out.

“Which is why I was so ready to jump ship when you asked me.” Jon explained and laughed, “I mean the rumors you heard were true, I was totally ready to get out and having the Vagabond turn up at my door-”

“Shhh!” Ryan hushed him quickly, tilting his head as he listened for any sign someone had heard him. He flinched when he felt fingers on the back of his hand, an electricity then a heat from being touched after so long.

“James… No one is going to listen to us here. We are just to random guys, enjoying finger food and listening to the game. We’re Normal. Not wanted.” Jon told him softly, the touch intensifying as he clasped Ryan's hand in his to comfort him.

_Jeremy sighed heavily as Ryan did another swivel in his seat, checking the next influx of patrons for threats, eyeing exits to maintain which were clear and patting his thigh to assure himself his hidden blade was still there._

_“Babe?” Jeremy said sharply, Ryan not looking at him, sizing up the man who had just sat down with his group, mentally checking him over for weapons, the build raising alarms in his mind._

_“Hmm?” Ryan answered absently, eyes roaming once he saw no hidden weapons._

_“Did you hear what I said?” Jeremy asked shortly, Ryan not listening to the words just humming in agreement._

_“Mmhmm.” That slight girl looked familiar, did he know her from… No, what shes the billboard model from Smith street._  
_“Ryan!” Jeremy thumped the table, making Ryan jump and finally look to his husband who was glaring at him, “Don’t you ever turn off?!” Jeremy asked him frustratedly, Ryan pasting on a guilty smile that fell as Jeremy shook his head, leaning back and crossing his arms._

_“It’s our first anniversary and you’ve barely looked at me.” He complained, anger hiding the hurt making Ryan reach a hand towards him over the table._

_“Come on Dear; I’m just… Being cautious. I am listening.” He tried to soothe, though of course he never had, too paranoid someone will recognize them and attack._

_“No, you haven’t been. God Rye, we are safe ok? No one knows who we are, so will you fucking relax?” Jeremy hissed, unfolding his hands to press his palms to the table, leaning over his food to whisper furiously to his husband, “We are a normal couple here alright? No one’s gonna come after us at this dinner.”_

_“Ok, ok, Alright, Ok… Look, I’m relaxing.” Ryan said, taking his drink and gesturing it towards Jeremy who was slowly relaxing as well, “Now, what were you saying?”_

_“I was saying, that maybe we should think if we want to adopt kids someday,” Jeremy said stubbornly, having tried to gently talk Ryan around but since he needed Ryan's attention, he decided to be upfront. Ryan spat out his drink in his surprise._

Jon's hand squeezing his brought Ryan back to the present. Ryan shifted and moved his head up, coming to life after becoming still and silent. Jon chuckled lightly, his thumb brushing the back of Ryan's hand soothingly, uncaring of the wing sauce on both their fingers.

“Hey, welcome back. Where’d you go in that mind of yours?” Jon asked curiously, not really expecting an answer.

“To a nursery.” Ryan answered softly, not seeing the confused look Jon gave nor the surprise when Ryan suddenly stood up, his hand feeling cold when he slipped it from Jon's, searching and finding the napkins to wipe as he spoke, “I’m sorry Jon. This was nice, but I got to go. I just remembered… I’m married.”

“You’re _what?!_ ”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Jamie! Jamie wait! James!” Ryan ignored Jon, mentally noting he would have to pay him back for dumping him with the bill, taping his way out and back towards the bus line. He pulled out his phone, holding it close to his heart, feeling his ring heavy on the chain around his neck.

\--

Jeremy was all set to ignore his phone. He knew it would be someone from the crew, trying to find out where he snuck off too. Seriously he was offended by their stupidity, thinking he would stay home like a good little Broken lad. He had issues he needed to work through, and they were certainly not going to approve of the way he did that.

But the number flashing across the screen was one of the feedback numbers Ryan used to hide his trail. Jeremy's heart stopped beating as he answered, the phone slipping a little in his hands but he managed to hold it too his ear.

Silence almost crushed him, nothing on the line, but silence…

“Jeremy?” Ryan's husky voice was uncertain and soft and unmistakably Ryan. Jeremy couldn’t help but sob, uncaring of how sticky he made his face as he pressed a hand over his eyes, his phone held in a crushing grip, “Jeremy? Jeremy hey, no, is that you crying? Oh Dear, please don’t-don’t cry.”

“I can’t- I can’t help it…” Jeremy sniffled, looking up as he blinked trying to get himself back under control, “Ryan you-you left! You left without a word, I-I know we talked but, You just left as all, I thought we’d have time to-to say goodbye and-” Jeremy couldn’t continue, his breath catching as he started crying harder again, his heart squeezing painfully.

“I had too. I had to Jeremy, I had to do it like a band-aid or I would never have made it out of your bed.” Ryan pleaded with him to understand; his voice choked up. His words, however, had a different effect, stirring up the anger within his husband.

“Our bed! It was OUR bed, Ryan! Yours and mine! And well I’m so happy for you that the band-aid method worked so well. As long as it worked for you then who cares about anyone else huh? Who cares about me?!” Jeremy snarled sarcastically, dashing away tears, smearing his face with sticky moisture. He could sense Ryan's shock, and it gave him an almost sense of satisfaction to have Ryan be discomforted for once.

“I care about-” Ryan tried to say, but Jeremy couldn’t let him finish that sentence, or it would break him.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you DARE, RYAN HAYWOOD!” Jeremy roared, reaching down to pull at the wheel of his chair, so his back was turned to the worktable as he gestured angrily, “DON’T fucking tell ME you CARE! If you had fucking CARED you’d be HERE!”

“I needed to go, Jeremy, for both of-”

“Oh FUCK YOU!” Jeremy screamed into the phone and threw it, smashing it to pieces against the wall as he huffed angrily in his chair, glaring at the black mess the phone had become, no lights on it working at all.

“How dare he? How DARE HE?!” Jeremy fumed, twisting his chair back to his work, grabbing his victim's chin, pulling, so they were looking at him with tear-filled eyes, their blood already on Jeremy's hands, “Can you believe that? Just as I’m getting some closure, he picks NOW to call? What an ASSHOLE!”

Jeremy shoved their face, sick of looking at the gagged mans expression, using the wheelchair to turn and wheel across to his bag. He doubted Jack or Geoff would approve of the methods Jeremy was experimenting with. He preferred his chair down here, strapping on his leg to go back upstairs to leave this empty house, its only use the basement he had altered.

He pulled out a hammer and wheeled back to his victim, eyes mad with pain, the power he held over the bound man, the only thing that made him feel in his world of abandonment, “Where were we before my Ex, so rudely interrupted hmm? Oh yeah! You were about to tell me where our good buddy Nathaniel is. I got a bone to pick with him...”

\--

Ryan's hand shook as his phone fell into his lap. With quivering fingers, he reached up and pulled the blindfold from his face, no difference to his sight, but now the tears could run down his face freely.

Jeremy… Jeremy didn’t want him. Jeremy was furious. He hated him, and rightly so. Jeremy was finally free of the burden of Ryan and very clearly did not want him back. Ryan tried so hard to be happy for his battle buddy, but all he felt was his heart, fracturing apart.

Slowly he leaned to the side until gravity too him and his head hit the pillow, blind eyes open and staring at nothing. Numbness settled into his limbs; his phone ignored as it vibrated in his grip, too broken to answer it.

It was over. Truly over. No separation, they were done. Ryan supposed Jeremy might have already filed for divorce, but since Ryan wasn’t living under the name Jeremy married, that might be why he hadn’t heard about it.

Ryan hadn’t thought too hard about how Jeremy might feel about receiving his call. Ryan had just wanted to talk with his husband again, just for a moment, escape back into what once was. The sweetness of his Jeremy, the humor, the fun.

All gone. All his fault.

_"No, No… stay…” Jeremy begged him when Ryan went to shift away. Ryan grinned instead, holding Jeremy closer and throwing his leg over Jeremy's hip to lock them tight together as they caught their breath. Ryan nuzzled his husband's neck, getting a breathless chuckle and a halfhearted swat on his cheek as a reward._

_“You hoping you catch?” Ryan teased, running a hand over Jeremy's stomach, kissing the skin of his shoulder, “Hoping you can grow all round and fat with our baby?”_

_“Asshole-”_

_“I’m in one.”_

_“Pfft, Ryan!” Jeremy whined, trying not to laugh and encourage his husband, “Don’t be a Jerk. The only way we have kids is to find one who needs a home.”_

_“A man can dream,” Ryan said wistfully, a less teasing pat over Jeremy's stomach until the lad caught his hand and interlaced their fingers._

_“Biology is not going to agree with you there Rye. Besides, I wouldn’t wanna be pregnant anyways. I’m comfortable with who I am. But if you wanted a partner who could-” Jeremy's low self-esteem kicked in, wondering if Ryan wanted a partner who could give him children the way nature deemed._

_“No, no.” Ryan was quick to assure him, squeezing him tightly from behind, “I only want you. Just you. As you are. Always.”_

_“What if I’m all grey and old?” Jeremy asked with a smile, wanting to hear Ryan's sweet words._

_“I’d be all over you.”_

_“What if I get horribly burnt, a walking skeletons?” Jeremy asked next._

_“Well, we could still Bone down.” Ryan rumbled, making Jeremy burst into laughter that ended in a sigh as Ryan slid out. Ryan chuckled along as they separated, grabbing the handtowel and setting to work, wiping and cleaning his husband down as Jeremy rolled onto his stomach._

_“You are such a dad already with those stupid jokes.” Jeremy smiled at him, Ryan flopping down on his back and putting arms behind his head, “But seriously… You sure you want to do this with me? I mean the moment we get a kid involved it kinda becomes a forever thing.”_

_Ryan snorted and bopped Jeremy's nose to see his eyes crinkle merrily, “It’s already a forever thing. There is nothing in this world that would take me from your side, Jeremy Dooley. Nothing.”_

Ryan sobbed, finally seeing himself as the selfish liar he was. He only thought about himself, how he couldn’t stand all the pity and sympathy. He thought only how his life had been forever changed, never gave a thought to the husband that tried so hard to be there for him even when he also had his life altered with the removal of his leg.

“Jeremy!” Ryan wailed bitterly, “I’m so sorry! What have I done!” Ryan pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as they burned with his tears. He cried into his bed, heartbreaking and body aching with the need to have Jeremy beside him. It was a physical ache in his arms and chest, almost like he could feel his husband in them.

He grabbed the sheets, twisting them into his fingers as he finally let go, all these long, long months, nearing a year since his blinding. He cried for his sight; he cried for his broken pride, he cried for his loneliness. Most of all he cried out for his soulmate, his other half and the pain Jeremy has been in for so long and now Ryan had made worse with his ill-timed phone call.

He should never have given in; he should have thought it through. Ryan shouldn’t have assumed Jeremy was in Los Santos they way he remembered him. Ryan remembered colored hair and big smiles, gaming on the couch together. When Ryan thought of Jeremy, he thought of laying in bed after making love on a lazy Saturday, playing with his fingers as Jeremy brightly spoke of their future together.

He had never seen Jeremy broken; his mind couldn’t conjure the image that doesn’t exist for him. He had never seen with his own eyes the shaved head, only felt with his hands. He had never seen Jeremy's leg too short, never witnessed the empty jean leg flap with each hop. He only had one night since finding out his husband was not the whole man he remembered before he had run as far as he could.

Ryan closed his eyes against the pain, a gasp escaping his mouth when he punched the bed. His self-loathing rose to overcome the grief, burning through him like a fire. No wonder Jeremy had told him to go fuck himself. He had left Jeremy alone when his husband had needed him the most.

Well no more.

Ryan sat up, dashing the wet from his face, feeling wrung out and emptied as he sniffled, getting his breathing back under control. He opened his eyes to darkness, but this time when the swell of pity for himself rose, he fought it back.

“Enough Haywood.” Ryan said quiet but firm, hearing the words in Jeremy's voice as he spoke, “Time to pull yourself together Rye. Want people to stop pitying you? Stop pitying yourself.”

Jeremy, had he been whole, would never have babied him for so long. Ryan could see now that Jeremy trying to care for him was just a way the Lad had been asking for help without realizing it. So now it was up too Ryan to be the Man Jeremy needed.

He would get himself back together then head back to Los Santos and beg Jeremy to take him back. This time as a husband that Jeremy could depend on. The time for sulking was over. Now came the real hard part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know, I'm late again! I'm so sorry everyone, circumstances here have been taking all my attention  
> Can we have a round of Love for my editor Capow please? Life has been super mean to her and she is a lovely, giving, kind and beautiful soul who does not need what fate has been dishing out lately  
> Not only does she Edit for me, she also kicks my butt to write, helps fuel the story-line and is my inspiration  
> My writing would not exist without her so give all the props to her this time around please guys


	9. Love is Destuctive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy spirals and Ryan rushes home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an fyi there are strong homophobic slurs ahead please be cautious guys I want you guys to enjoy not be hurt :)  
> The guy saying them is a very big bad and will be dealt with the next arc in a very violent manner Rest assured  
> It's never ok to say such things and it's just another exzample of what makes this guy evil hearted and why it's ok to hate him  
> Also suicide and cutting warning, we are into a dark dark spot here peoples

_Jeremy huffed as he pulled his jacket straight in the mirror for the hundredth time. Geoff laughed and put his hands on Jeremy's shoulders, looking over his shoulders into the lad's eyes, “You look fine kid.”_

_“I look short,” Jeremy grumbled, leaving the jacket be now Geoff had his hands on it, reaching instead to adjust his tie, orange, of course, the sides of his hair were purple and the top freshly dyed the same color of his tie. The suit itself was a deep purple that only in the light would you see that it wasn’t black, “And dumb.”_

_“Well, you’re marrying Ryan Haywood today so yeah, you are pretty dumb.” Geoff joked, putting his hands up with a laugh when Jeremy got his Boston on denying his logic, “As for short, he already knows that by now and he loves you anyways. So buck up Dooley.”_

_Jeremy shook his head with a smile as he looked back into the mirror and puffed out his chest, trying to give his most serious expression before caving and letting the nerves show again, “This is going to be ok? Right, Geoff? Like, we’re doing the right thing here?”_

_“Yes. Yes, you are.” Geoff assured him, turning Jeremy around and fixing his shirt collar for him, making sure he looked perfect, “I’ve never seen Ryan taken with someone as much as he was with you. Ever. More than that, your family Jeremy. I’ve considered you my son for awhile now, and even if you guys break-up tomorrow, you’d always have a place in my heart and my home.”_

_Jeremy smiled, and his eyes welled with feeling, palming the bottom of them to get the tears before they fell, “Naww, come on Geoff, your killing me here.”_

_“No Jeremy, You are killing IT” Geoff joked, “Let’s go get you hitched hmm?”_

Jeremy sat on the end of his bed, in his hands the frame holding a picture of He and Ryan on their wedding day. Ryan was handsome, his hair blonde that day because he wanted Jeremy to know he was all Ryan at that moment. His suit was black, and silver, a smile wide as Gus stood beside them, Ryan's eyes never leaving Jeremy’s.

Jeremy had to fight the urge to cover his face, and in the photo, Ryan was holding both his hands to prevent him from doing just that, Jeremy's cheeks noticeable bright. He looked so happy. Jeremy put his hand over the couple, his eyes dry.

A knock at the door didn’t even make him blink, “Who is it?”

“Geoff.”

“Here to end my grounding?” The moment Jeremy had appeared out of his hidey hole, the fake ah crew had nabbed him. Geoff had had everyone from the main team, B team all the way to the peons looking for him. Jeremy had hardly gotten into the Starbucks before Trevor was at his elbow, getting Jeremy's sandwich to go.

“No. But I do want to talk-”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Geoff had had his chance to talk. He had acted like a thwarted father, arms crossed and face beet-red when Jeremy had come through the front door. Jeremy had opened his mouth, but Geoff had been in no mood to hear it, pointing down the hall and sending Jeremy to his room.

“Jeremy, come on man. Doesn’t have to be like this.” Geoff pleaded through the door. Once Jeremy might have been moved by the emotion within his voice, but now, he was empty and tired. Oh so very tired.

“How else could it be?” Jeremy mumbled to himself, stroking a thumb over Ryan’s face before raising it so Geoff could hear him, “Fuck off.”

“Right! That does it!” Jeremy looked up as he heard the doorknob turn, the door thumping against the drawers Jeremy had pushed in the way, “For the love of-! Jeremy!”

Jeremy had a small smirk on his face now, thwarting Geoff, causing him pain and irritation. Well, it was nice to feel anything, so Jeremy savored the moment. Anything but the roaring emptiness inside was helped. Its why he focused more on tearing Nathaniel apart than on how he was useless to the one man he’d ever loved.

The drawers shifted, and Geoff gave a grunt of effort as he forced his way in, Jeremy looking up, setting his face to stone to watch. Geoff managed to get in and started to talk, but Jeremy didn’t listen to a word. Instead, he watched Geoff's face work and wondered how Geoff did it. How did he keep Jack a happily married woman? What was the secret, why couldn’t Jeremy figure it out?

He thought by helping Ryan heal; he was doing the right thing. By keeping his injury away from his husband, he had been protecting him. Which, it turned out, was the right call. The moment Ryan had found out Jeremy as crippled, he’d left for better pastures. Jeremy supposed Geoff was good at always being strong and whole for Jack to lean on.

As Geoff gestured, indicating the door then back, Jacks name floating by Jeremy's understanding, the Lad came to an understanding. Geoff was there for Jack, listen to her, understood her worries… But he denied Ryan when Jeremy's husband had raised concerns. If Geoff had listened than battle buddies might never have been caught.

“She’s worried sick about you! We both are Jeremy, we fucking love you kid. We don’t want you to hurt yourself, we want you here with us, happy! You can’t just fucking take off like that. You gave us a heart attack; we didn’t know what we’d find. If you’d just see someone… we’ll even pay for-”

“This is your fault,” Jeremy said allowed, tasting the words and silencing Geoff for a moment, derailing his speech. He had wanted Jeremy to talk to a professional. He realized he and Jack were not enough, that despite the banning of anything sharp within the penthouse, still, Jeremy was cuting himself. He and Jack had noticed how Jeremy winced when he walked on his leg, had noticed the blood stains on bandages in the wash. But now Jeremy was blaming him?

“How-”

“He told you.” Jeremy said tightly, starting to glare as he rose up onto his leg, using the drawers Geoff had pushed closer in his bid to get in to stay steady, “Ryan told you. He said he didn’t like this. That he smelt set up. But you, you dismissed him.”

Geoff raised a hand, “Look; we needed that deal, we got hurt by that not working out financially and-”

“ _ **You got hurt?!**_ ” Jeremy's voice ripped through an octave, Geoff flinching as he realized his wording had been wrong but it was too late, Jeremy was beside himself, “WE GOT FUCKING HURT GEOFF YOU SHITCUNT ASSHOLE _FUCK!!_ ”

Jeremy hoped forward, one hand on the drawers the other reaching out and grabbing Geoff's shirt, pulling him into the lad's chest so he could roar into his face, “YOU ABSOLUTE FUCK! THIS IS YOUR FUCKING FAULT!! YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING LISTENED!! IF YOU HAD I’D HAVE A FUCKING LEG AND A GODDAMN FUCKING _**HUSBAND**_ ”

“Jere-” Geoff tried to speak, tried to reach out to soothe one he considered a son but Jeremy shook him with his grip and then shoved him away into the wall hard enough to make a thud. Jeremy grasped at the drawers with both hands as he had pushed himself off balance, but he still bellowed his pain, tears running down his face as it screwed up with rage.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM! GET OUT OF MY FACE! GET OUT OF MY LIFE RAMSEY! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU HEAR ME?! **I. HATE. YOU!!** ”

  
Geoffs heart broke at the raw feeling in Jeremy's voice, the pain of it, the agony and conviction caused answering tears to well in the older man's eyes. Jack drawn by the commotion, reached in and grabbed Geoff's hand, pulling him out of Jeremy's room and away from the pure fury of the thwarted and broken man.

She pulled Geoff into her arms, her head under his chin as they heard Jeremy’s emotions break like a dam, spilling out destruction into his room. Thuds, bangs and crashing highlighting the rambling of a man pushed to the edge than tipped over by those he loved.

“I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOU ALL!!” Jeremy bellowed than screamed wordlessly as he destroyed everything he could touch, “NOT GOOD ENOUGH! NEVER GOOD ENOUGH! USELESS! FUCKING, FUUUUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!”

“We’ve lost him… we lost him, Jack. We lost them both.” Geoff murmured into her hair, closing his eyes as tears fell into red curls. Jack sobbed into her husband's shirt, both holding as tight as they could, helpless on how to get Jeremy on the path to healing.

\--

Ryan took a deep breath before he went into the shop. Jon deserves an explanation… and a goodbye. He never set out to hurt a good man, but Ryan was aware now that was just what he had done. Something made very clear to him when Jon greeted him coldly with a ‘good morning mister married.’

“Ah.. good morning?” Ryan had no idea how he was going to do this, hearing something heavy plonk onto the bench and Jon huff in irritation, “Look, I ah… I gotta say something here.”

“Oh, now you want to talk? You kick in my door, drag my ass to Liberty City, shove cash into my hands to open a shop, fucking sit your ass in the sulky Mcsulk corner for WEEKS, then go on a date with me to tell me your flipping MARRIED for christ sakes, and _now_ you wanna talk?” Jon obviously had been holding that in for a bit now, Ryan flinching back from his sins, nervously squeezing his cane in his hands as he felt his face heat.

“Well… when you put it like that it sounds kinda-”

“Like a shitty fucking way to act? Yeah. that's cause it is.” Jon fumed, Ryan cringing as he heard Jons sharp footsteps come around the counter and towards him, “Look, I get it. You got a rough fucking deal. But being blinded does not give you a free pass to treat people like shit!”

Ryan lowered his chin, taking his words to heart, the pain of what he did to Jon settling over the bigger hurt that was his husband. He nodded dumbly as he let Jon get it all out before he said anything.

“And you know, I was ready to take a goddamn chance you know? I’m just sorry that somewhere along the way I started to *care* about you.” Ryan heard the rustle of Jon's shirt as he folded his arms, his voice tight as he spoke to the blind man, “But I should have just saved myself some grief. You don’t give a shit about me at all do you? I was just your ticket out.”

“You… You were.” Ryan admitted, raising a hand in a heartfelt plea for Jon to ait as he heard the man scoff and the scrap of his feet as he went to walk away, “No wait! You were my ticket to begin with. But, you were trying, and I was not open to it. I’m sorry. I wish things could be different, but I can’t. I can’t give you what you want from me. I… I just needed a friend, and you, you were that to me. Even if I wasn’t to you.”

Ryan heard nothing but the soft breath, showing Jon as listening so he plunged on, “I-I should never have left my Husband. He… He’s my everything. And I hurt him. Way more than I hurt you. Count yourself lucky your learning right now I’m shit.”

“This is a shitty apology, Haywood.” Jon sniffed.

“I know…” Ryan groaned, dropping his hand and running it through his hair, today he was wearing sunglasses instead of his usual band, “I don’t know what to say, Jon, I-... if things were different… I’d love to be a friend to you but- Jeremy… He-he needs me…”

“Then go.” Jon said suddenly sounded defeated, “Go back to Los Santos. Go back to your husband. Our deal is done, Ryan. Just leave.”

Ryan took a step towards him, wanting to touch his shoulder, but Jon scuffed out of reach, “Don’t. Just don’t. I got this here; I know what I'm doing. So Just leave.”

“I’m sorry…” Ryan really was, he was so sorry he had ruined this friendship before it could begin.

“I know you are. Doesn’t help.” Jon was moving away, moving where Ryan couldn’t follow. If he did, it would be saying to himself that Jeremy as the past and Jon the future.

“... Goodbye, Jon.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

\--  
There was a supply hidden under the bathroom tiles.  
It came from marrying a lowkey paranoid.  
He wouldn’t be able to do it without drugs.

In the end, it was easy.  
The wife slept deep, a few pills in her afternoon drink.  
The husband was gullible.

“... I think… could you drive me to this therapist? I… Don’t get excited, but… I just want to meet him.”

Gullible.

\--  
Ryan never realized how soothing the sounds of a plane could be. He had his head pointed towards the ceiling, no point in the window seat for him. Instead, he shut his eyes behind his glasses and listened.

He jumped when his phone rang. He really only had it to help him navigate, but now someone was calling him. His phone was set to read out the number between rings, and he recognized Jacks. Ryan, kinda numb and confused as to how Jack got his number and the timing of the call, answered.

“Hel...lo?” he asked quietly. A rush of warmth went over his body at the sound of his friend's voice, even as tears pricked in his eyes.

“Ryan? Oh thank god, Matt, you got yourself a fucking raise!” Jack sounded so relieved before she turned more serious, “Ryan look, we’ve been respecting your space, and I’m sorry to call you first.”

“No Jack! I’m actually… I’m actually on my way… My way home.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he sniffled, trying to hide his face from anyone who might be looking by bending over his knees, closing his eyes as he spoke, “Jack I… I want to come home. I want to be a family again.”

Silence. He could hear her breathing and Matt and someone else talking in the background, but she said nothing in return for a long moment before, “Ryan, I missed you. But all that has to wait I’m sorry.”

Ryan's was crushed, and he swallowed hard, “yeah, I get it. I hurt all of you, and It’s gonna take some time to gain that trust back, I just hope you’ll let me.”

“No, Ryan you don’t understand. I’m calling you because of Jeremy…”

Time froze for Ryan, the sounds of people chattering, the stewards pushing their trays fading, the whir of the engines going silent. It was only him, his heartbeat and the words Jack was speaking.

“He’s taken, Geoff. He drugged me, and he tricked Geoff, and now they are gone, and we can’t find them! You know Jeremy best, we need to know where he is! Jeremy… I’m sorry, but he’s changed. He’s cold, and angry and ready to hurt himself or others.”

So many questions. So much blame. So useless in the air. The turmoil of emotions Jacks words had stirred had to be pushed down, Ryan talking past the lump in his throat that was his heart, “How long ago?” he croaked.

“Half a day.” Jack answered, her own voice rough with worried tears, “Jeremy blames Geoff for not listening to you. He blames him for the ambush the capture… It's that fucking Nathaniel's fault! Seeing him sent Jeremy spiraling”

Panic. Pure, fear, a cold blanket was thrown over Ryan as his heart tried to explode out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t move.

“Nathaniel is _alive?!_ ” He whispered, the words ripping out of his throat like the water had from his lungs during his waterboarding. Sweat burst out like bullets, his body shaking hard. Jacks answer was like someone turning down the volume on a radio.

“Oh god! Ryan, I’m so sorry I didn’t think! He can’t get you sweety; you're going to be ok, we are going to get you from the airport…”

Ryan didn’t feel the phone slip from his fingers. He hardly noticed the touch on his back, his fellow passenger asked if he was ok. Someone hit the button as he started going fetal. He couldn’t handle this. It was too much. This was a mistake. He needed to flee, but there was nowhere to run…

_Ryan's lungs burnt, chest heaving. He couldn’t stand another drowning, but more than that he couldn’t stand Jeremy's screams. Scream, then laughter, scream than laughter. They were fucking ENJOYING his husband's pain._

_Nathaniel. He stood between his two prizes, arms folded, trying to appear taller than he was as he looked between the two. Ryan’s long hair fisted in hand, dripping with water as they refilled the canister. Jeremy tied to his chair, chest bare as they electrocuted him again and again with a car battery._

_“No wonder you two when fag for each other. Tell me vagabond, do you like you butt buddies nips now?” Nate laughed cruelly, and Jeremy screamed as he convulsed, the two ends touched to his pecs. Ryan clenched his teeth, helpless and agonized by Jeremy's pain._

_“FUCK YOU SHORTY!” Jeremy bit out the moment he could, and Ryan groaned. He admired and loved Jeremy's strength, but he wished his husband wouldn’t draw so much attention to himself. He flinched when Nate punched Jeremy across the face. His face was already swollen and split from such strikes, but Jeremy kept earning them._

_“Who you calling Shorty midget?!” Nate hated pokes at his height, and he gestured angrily at his cronies, “Fucking shock this asshole again! Keep doing it till he’s begging for fucking mercy!”_

_“Boss… His heart might give-”_

_“I don’t fucking care! Do what I said or I’ll do it to you!” Ante snarled grabbing his cronies by the collar and yanking him into Antes' face before throwing him into Jeremy._

_“Someone is sen-sa-time…” Ryan said in a sing-song, alarmed by those instructions, but hiding it, putting on a mask more fully than one made of plastic, “tell me, is it cause your short? Or is it cause you kinda wish someone would plow your ass?”_

_“I’m not the fag here! You are!”_

_“Yeah, cause I managed to get a fucking catch. You, however… Sure the only one who has touched your dick is you.” Ryan sneered. Antes' face went red with rage, then suddenly it smoothed out, striking more fear than anything else._

_“Hank? Take our good friend rimmy. Put him on the table, face down. Strap him down. Tread? I want you to go get the bleach… Let's see how our good friend vagabond likes his eyes blue or see if we can get a more clear color…”_

  
“Sir? Sir please, whats wrong?”

“This is his phone darl; he dropped it.”

“Thanks. Hello? Yes, the owner of the phone- Oh? PTSD? Why is he flying… I see, I’m so sorry for your loss. What do we do? Aha? Mmhm? About fifteen minutes till we land. Can you be there? That would be great. Ryan? Ok, we can do that. Thank you, Miss Jack.”

“Ryan? Ryan, your sister, is coming. She’ll meet you at touchdown. Ryan? Ryan, can you hear us? We need to put you back in your seat. That’s it, good job. Let me clip you up and, there! Ok, Ryan? We’ll be landing soon. Ryan? Ryan, Jacks on her way. Can you hear that? Jack will be meeting you there…. Ryan? Sir? Ryan. Can. You. Hear. us?”

  
....


	10. Love is Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> Strong self harm ahead and PTSD  
> Ryan's back, but can he get to Jeremy before he does something he'll regret? can they rescue Geoffrey in time?

Geoff coughed hoarsely, tasting copper over his lips. His face ached, the deep bone splintered ache of a man who’d been beaten. His teeth felt loose in his head, and his eyesight had narrowed. Still, he pleaded, not for mercy, but for a man he considered a son.

“Jeremy, please… You are going to regret this.” He said mournfully, knowing deep in his heart that Jeremy only hurt him like this because he loved Geoff as a father. Unfortunately, the lad was confused and broken, and so he took Geoff’s words as a threat.

Geoff flinched as Jeremy loamed closer, his fists clenched, ready to hit him again, “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” Jeremy shrieked, the sight of Geoff's bruised face pulling at him. On the one hand, he hated the injuries Jeremy himself had inflected… But on the other, it was so satisfying to punish someone other than himself….

“You don’t know anything! YOU’VE NEVER KNOWN ANYTHING!!” Jeremy roared as he turned away, running a hand over his mouth before biting his knuckle, cracking the scab there from doing this too often.

“I know your hurting,” Geoff said soft, Jeremy's heart squeezing, his stomach turning. He was hurting.

“I know you're angry.” Geoff’s voice was full of understanding. Jeremy turned to look at him, tears falling unnoticed by the lad, suppressed guilt for what Geoff was going through. 

“Damn right I’m angry.” He’d been tortured for hat seemed like weeks. He’d watched his husband blinded by homophobic heartless crewmembers and had his own leg, his livelihood, striped from him. His husband left him, his crew saw him as a liability and a pity case. His birth family still had no idea what happened to him, and now he felt they never would recognize him if he did go home. In Jeremy's eye’s, it was all Geoff's fault for brushing off Ryan's gut feeling, “This is your fucking fault! All of it! On YOU.”

“I know you see it that wa-”

“Cause it is that way!” Jeremy slammed his hands down on Geoff’s forearms where they were tied to the chair; his red face close to Geoff's he could smell all the sweat coming off him. The lad wasn’t just angry; he was sick.

“Jeremy, when was the last time you treated your leg?” Geoff asked in concern, ignoring his own aching body to try and peer down to where Jeremy’s leg attached to the prosthetic. His eyes snapped shut when Jeremy slugged him across the face again then another in his gut. Geoff tasted blood on his tongue as he coughed, curling over his stomach as much as he could.

“I had a life! I had a job, and I did that Job fucking well!” Jeremy ignored the question, his leg visibly buckling every time he stepped on it, but Jeremy seemed to only use the stabbing pain as fuel to rant at the object of his fury, “All it would have taken was you to FUCKING. LISTEN!”

Geoff took deep breaths, lungs protesting after the hits they’d taken, but his eyes were fixed on where Jeremy's knee joint slid into the prosthetic. Blood and pus seeped through the bandaging, obvious with his short pants and higher up above the bandaging were cuts, some red and raised, looking irritated, some fresh and leaking blood.

Jeremy just limped back and forth, gesturing widely as the pain in his leg only amplified the pain in his heart, the heat of his fury mixing with the heat of his fever, “But NOOOOO… Not good old Boss Ramsey! King Pin of the fucking Fakes! Couldn’t take the time to listen to the concerns from his expert!”

Jeremy's rounded on Geoff, his boss ripping his view from Jeremy's leg to his face, seeing the blind madness within his eyes as Jeremy stabbed a finger at him, “You know what you were concerned with? *Money*.” Jeremy spat it like it was a dirty word, coming back towards Geoff who cringed away, aware that Jeremy might actually kill him in the state he was in.

Suspicions were confirmed when Jeremy sat on his thighs, and wrapped hands around his neck, squeezing his airway shut as he growled into his face, “You took everything from me!” he growled, “Everything! I was going to be a father! Ryan and I had sent in paperwork for a baby before you had to throw it all away!”

Geoff tried to choke out words, eyes bulging as he took in Jeremy's words. Had they started the adoption process? He hadn’t known that! He would have eased back all operations if he’d known there was going to be a baby…

“Well, now I’m going to break you… Just like you broke me…” Jeremy promised darkly as Geoff's eyesight faded, starting to black out.

\--

“Here he is Miss Pattillo.” 

“Oh thank god. Thank you so much. I’ll take it from here.”

“You’ll need to fill out some-”

“Paperwork, yes I know. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Can I just have a minute alone with him before I-”

“Can I fill it out? I’m Ryan’s brother. Michael Haywood.”

“Of course Mr. Haywood. This way.”

“Ryan? Ryan, it’s Jack. Ryan, I’m going to touch you now on the shoulder.”

A familiar weight broke the numbness that had settled over Ryan's mind. Like ice cracking, everything came rushing back to him. The leaving Jon, the plane trip, the phone call…

OH GOD! The phone call!!

Ryan thrashed snatching out and grabbed Jack, yanking her close, covering her head with an arm and his upper body, head whipping back and forth as he uselessly tried to activate the sense long taken from him, “Nathaniel! Nate! He’s here Jack! I know he is! We need to get out!”

Nate could have followed him all this time. Watching and sneering, laughing at him and Ryan would have been helpless to notice it. He could imagine that smug smirk, see those soulless eyes leering at him in his eternal dark. A low, fearful moan tore its way out of his throat, shaking hard as he tried to protect jack with his body. 

The way he failed to protect Jeremy.

“Ryan! Ryan, hush sweetheart, he’s not here. It's just you and me in this room, that's all. Just you and me Ryan, calm down.” Jack soothed him, allowing him to hold her however long he wished and however hard, “Ryan, please… I need- you need- our husbands need us.”

Jacks voice choked up and pulled Ryan's panicked mind into focus on his old friend. His protective curl became a loving cuddle, as he let noticed that he wasn’t the only one shaking. She clung back, getting a hold of herself to sit up a little and cup Ryan's face, running a thumb under his blinded eye.

“Ryan, Jeremy needs you. He’s hurting so badly, and he’s taken, Geoff. I need you to tell me every bolt hole you guys had that you never reported.”

Ryan told her everything. Jeremy needed him, and his bone quaking fear had to be pushed aside. He wasn’t going to fail his husband again. With that in mind, he pulled his necklace out from under his collar.

“Help me put my ring back on?”

\--

Geoff was in a bad way, and Jeremy wasn’t feeling any better. Geoff's once familiar features were dark with bruising and blood, swollen and misshapen. Blood covered his arms, the knife in Jeremy's hand still dripping, the tattoo’s that had mocked him with their beautiful shapes and colors now crisscrossed with slashes. Why should Geoff have a whole and beautiful body when he doomed Jeremy to be alone with hideous scarring.

Still, Jeremy felt cold and hot all mixed in his gut that threatened to rebel at the sensation. He shook, and his leg felt aflame from his hip right down to the toes he no longer had. With the dripping knife, he sliced himself again, the sharp, fresh sting briefly bringing with it a relief from the heat. He shut his eyes and sliced again, a shaking breath in.

“..Jer...Jeremy…” Geoff coughed hoarsely, groaning with pain as he tried to speak, “Jer...get...help…”

“It’s too late for that Geoff. Way too late. A whole year too late…” Jeremy said hopelessly, the throb of his leg mingling with the throb of his heart. He could never go back after this, after taking the fury of his pain out on Geoff, he could never go home.

He lifted the knife and looked into the reflection, seeing the emptiness of his own eyes. He couldn’t even find Nate; he couldn’t get revenge on the man who broke them. He was alone, and now he’d punished Geoff, he was directionless. He had nothing now but failure and loneliness.

“Jer...emy… D-don’t…” Geoff ground out weakly as he saw the lad raise the knife and line the point up with his heart, right between his ribs. Jeremy felt the wet of his tears that he didn’t know he was shedding on his face. Pure despair washed over him, a firm belief he would never come back from this deep hole inside him.

“Jeremy DON’T!” Ryan's voice cut through the darkness that was wrapping Jeremy's mind, and he looked up to see Ryan on the stair, a walking stick in hand, his elbow hooked with Jacks who’s horrified face had taken in the scene and told Ryan what she had seen.

“Jeremy, please no!” Ryan begged, his scarred face screwed up with the terror of losing his husband forever. He pushed Jack's hand off his elbow and dropped his cane, using the railing he stumbled down the stairs barely avoiding breaking his neck from a fall but made it to the bottom.

“R-Ryan?” Jeremy was shocked to see him there, barely noticing the prick of the knife through his shirt as he watched with wide eyes, the blind man felt his way towards him. His grip was weak as Ryan's hand closed around his wrist and pulled the weapon away from his chest. 

The knife clattered to the ground and Jeremy found himself buried against Ryan's chest, arms locked around Ryan's waist as with a familiar gesture, Ryan curled his head over Jeremy's. His heart was as full as his arms, tears leaking formed the scarred ruin of his face into Jeremy's curls.

“I missed you.” He breathed, momentarily forgetting the horrors of their time apart. Ryan smelt as he always had, his arms a little weaker in their grip, but clear he was holding with all his might. Jeremy's leg gave out, his remains of a knee bending and the crumbled together on the floor, Ryan guiding them down safely still clinging together.

“And I missed you, Jeremy.” Ryan echoed, squeezing a little bit tighter, nose pressed hard against Jeremy's skull in his hair, tears soaking through strands to wet the top of his head. It was long few minutes of them holding each other, soaking up the presence of the other, that neither noticed Jack stealing to her husband's side and untying him nor when she carried him upstairs away from this dungeon of pain.

Ryan had only senses for Jeremy, and through tears fell, he listened more to Jeremy's crying give way to heavy bone shaking sobs as he finally let go of his pain. Ryan's shirt would be ruined, Jeremy's whole body shaking with racking sobs that ripped out of him with months of suppressed depression and loneliness.

Ryan’s own heart squeezed painfully for his husband, deeply ashamed he had ever left Jeremy to work himself into such a state. He shuddered to think what would have happened had they been even minutes later. He muttered into Jeremy's hair, attempting to soothe the raw emotion pouring out of his love.

“I'll never leave you again Jeremy. I swear it. Never gonna leave you alone, ever. I love you so fucking much baby, please, I love you, you’re everything to me, and you are never going to have to face this alone again. I’m here now; I’m here. Nothing will take me from your side.”

Jeremy heard the words, and he felt Ryan so solid and dependable in his arms. His mind, however, could not comprehend that his moment of dispair was over and a roaring anger ignited. His face contorted with his inner struggle and he found himself shoving Ryan away to sprawl on the basement floor.

“Nothing?! NOTHING?!” Jeremy asked as he struggled to stand. He tried to put weight on his leg but it wouldn’t take him, and he ended up on his back, sobbing and roaring his frustration mindlessly, “you left me!”

“I know.” Ryan agreed miserably, searching blindly for Jeremy, wanting to help him up as his husband pulled himself out of Ryan's reach with his hands, his leg refusing to work anymore for him.

“You _l_ _eft_  me Ryan!” Jeremy repeated agony in his voice that wasn’t just physical. Ryan could hear the heartbreak, and he wanted nothing more than to pull Jeremy back into his arms. He wished beyond anything he could go back and make a different choice, but that was in the real of impossible. All he could do now was try to make better decisions.

“I know!” Ryan wailed, “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I should have never-”

“I was alone.” Jeremy cried, pushing himself against the wall and pulling his good leg into an embrace, his prosthetic spread awkwardly out, his whole body shaking with a chill as he felt boiling hot all over. He coughed hoarsely with sobs, watching his Blinded love turning his ruined eyes towards him, hands outstretched in a plea.

Jeremy couldn’t forgive him. However, he was too hurt, to angry, too sick, “You left me all alone… I-I woke up, and you were gone. I knew you were going to do it but- I didn’t realize you’d actually  fucking do it!” He choked on a sob, pressing a hand to his face, sweat pouring down it, mixing with the tears as he remembered the soul-crushing darkness that came once he realized he’d truly been abandoned, “I mean, I guess I just fucking hoped you loved me as I loved you. I hoped maybe, just fucking maybe that this time I could be worth it to someone… to you. That I would be worth staying for. That maybe, just maybe, you would fucking stay; that-that I would wake up, and things wouldn’t be ok, they could never be ok, but you’d still be there, and we could work together…”

“I’m here. I’m here now. I’ve come back Jeremy, I-I want that. I want us to be together, to work through this together.” Ryan spoke quick and desperate, unable to see the slow shake of Jeremy's head, only the deep despair in his dearest hearts voice, “I’ll do anything, please. Let’s see someone together. I’ll-I’ll see a marriage counselor with you. I’ll be good; I’ll obey all the doctor's orders I promise, please. I’ll stay right by your side, literally, always within hands reach of you. I’ll do the dishes, and wash the clothes, and rub your fee-hands…”

Ryan was trying so to think of ways he could make this right; he almost missed the sound of Jeremy slumping sideways onto the ground. Fear, however, made everything sharper, something he knew well when he was on the hilt side of the blade and now, intimately well since being on the sharp end. 

"Jeremy?” He prompted, no longer hearing any sounds but sharp breaths and small shuffles. Ryan crawled on hands and knees, feeling his way to Jeremy, touching his body and finding him jerking, “Jeremy?!”

“Ryan, move!” Gavin's voice on the stairs was ignored as Ryan explored Jeremy with his hands, calling his name. Jeremy shook under his hands, he was burning up, a sickly scent rising from him like he hadn’t bathed in days, and now Ryan was closer he could hear a soft gurgle from Jeremy's mouth. That's all he could take in before he was roughly shoved aside.

“I got you boi.” Gavin said quickly, then shouting, “MICHAEL! TREVOR! SOMEONE HELP!!”

“What is it?! What’s happening!?” Ryan begged to know trying to touch his husband again, getting a brush of his curls before Gavin's hand shoved him in the chest out of the way again.

“He’s bloody seizing Ryan!” Gavin explained, “HELP! BLOODY HELP US!” 

Pounding footsteps on the stairs, their crewmates concerned voices crashing like a wave against Ryan's senses as he struggled to get back to Jeremy. Strong hands wrapped around his upper arms and dragged him back, but Ryan had learned. No more would he be taken from Jeremy's side.

“Ryan we gotta move buddy, you’ll just be in the way.” Trevor tried to get him away so they could get Jeremy into a safer position but Ryan wasn’t thinking clearly, and he wasn’t having it. He yanked his arm out of Trevor's grip, Trevor hadn’t expected such a fight, and so the crack across his forehead was unexpected. Ryan couldn’t see, and so he lashed out wildly, thrashing his way from Trevor's grip and falling forward to scuffle back too Jeremy, hands touching his head and shoulders.

“Jeremy! Jeremy, please! Please, I’m sorry, don’t leave me!” Ryan begged, fighting again when two sets of arms tore him from his husband again, “NO! Nononono! No! NO! It’s not fair! It’s not fair! Jeremy! Please don’t make me leave him! I can’t leave him again!”

“Oh my god, what happened here?” Andy, their medic in training exclaimed, “First Geoff now-”

“ANDY! Get the fuck down here and help!” Michael prompted, and Andy rushed, swallowing hard against all the blood around, stomach queasy at the sight.

“Ah, ok, right, um. I, I can’t- these two-”

“Give me that and concentrate on Jeremy,” Trevor ordered as Ryan struggled in Michael's arms and Gavin watched Jeremy still as his seizure run its course.All Ryan felt was a pinprick, and against his will, he fell into unconsciousness.

\--

Ryan was reminded of their rescue. It was the same confusing passage of days, coming in and out of sedation, being told information you can’t retain, people speaking but words having no meaning. All Ryan knew was this time he could not fail. This time, he needed to be Jeremy's rock.

The last time they’d been here, in this hospital bed in Caleb's clinic, it had been Jeremy ho had comforted Ryan. Jeremy, who had hugged him and assured him, and hid his own injury in order to let Ryan have the attention needed. This time, when Jeremy awoke, Ryan was the one holding him.

Jeremy first became aware he was awake when he felt arms around himself, feeling pooled against someone's side, head resting on their upper arm. He couldn’t believe his senses, the familiar body next to his couldn’t be true. He tried to remember what had happened before he went to bed, but the last thing he could think of was hitting Geoff until the pain in his hand was more intense than the one in his heart.

“Jeremy…” Ryan's voice rumbled through his chest, under Jeremy's palm. A slight pinch of Jeremy's Iv lead was ignored by the lad as he clutched at Ryan's shirt, longing to stay deep in this fantasy where nothing hurt, and Ryan was with him, “Jeremy, are you awake?”

“No, and don’t wake me,” Jeremy grumbled, becoming more aware of every moment and not wanting to let go of the fantasy. The fantasy that Ryan was here, that Ryan cared enough to be here, that he wanted Jeremy again.

“I think it’s a little late for that. How are you feeling?” Ryan asked, feeling Jeremy's small movements and getting worried, “Try not to move too much. You’re a few hours post surgery.”

Post… surgery? Jeremy's eyes whipped open, and he realized that Ryan hadn’t disappeared. More than that, he felt the bandaging right up his thigh and the strange numbness in his knee on his amputated leg. Ryan said something Jeremy didn’t make out when he threw his blanket back.

Jeremy fractured the air with a scream as he looked at the empty bed where his leg had been. Now his knee was gone as well. He had only six inches of thigh left on that side. He was ruined further than he thought possible.

“It was the infection Jeremy! Shhh, I'm here, I got you!” Ryan grabbed him, and he expected a fight just like always. To his horror, Jeremy burst into deep heaving sobs, crying in agony into Ryan's chest. He was broken, and Ryan had no idea how to fix it, but he was determined to try.


	11. Love is Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/-dzt6igyGRQ?t=24s  
> This is the song that inspired alot of this chapter :)

Jeremy hated how deceptively normal everything seemed in his house. He and Ryan sat at the dinner table, Ryan at the end, Jeremy at his immediate side. The clink of cutlery, the smell of food wafting. Even the small talk was the same, even as it lacked the warmth and banter they had once delivered it with.

“Gavin spilt his tea on himself today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he was trying to explain to Geoff his plan and gestured to hard.”

“Cool.”

The air was thick with things unsaid. Ryan believed coming home would fix everything, but for Jeremy he felt it was too late. He really did hate his life… if he could feel anything at all.

“Jeremy?”

“Mm?”

“Pass the green beans please?”

Jeremy passed the plate over, careful to set it down next to Ryan's plate where the man could use his fork to find what he wanted and stab a few. He served more onto his plate and he sighed pointedly. Jeremy knew what that sigh meant. He was meant to ask what was wrong. 

Jeremy put a mouthful of roast veggies in his mouth and ignored it.

“Jeremy? Talk to me…” Ryan begged softly. Once that would have cut through to Jeremy's core. Even now he felt the tug, the ghost echo of what he  _ should _ be feeling. But just as his leg was gone, so were Jeremy's ability to feel emotions.

“Hello Ryan.” Jeremy didn’t even mean it sarcastically. He just didn’t know what else he could say. 

He didn’t flinch as Ryan threw down his cutlery and shoved back from the table with a grunt of frustration. He didn’t look when Ryan's head fell into his hands; Didn’t look when Ryan's fingers dug into his skin in a hopeless attempt to ground himself against Jeremy's apathy.

“That’s not what I meant.” Ryan bit out each word painfully. Jeremy knew the gent couldn’t see him even with his face pointed in his direction. Just as he knew Ryan could hear him, grinding the knife against the plate purposely as he cut off another piece of pork.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Jeremy stated simply. This time he couldn’t ignore Ryan as the whole table was flipped on its side. Glasses and plates shattered, food went everywhere and chairs skid and fell across from them. Ryan threw himself at Jeremy, falling on his knees by Jeremy's foot, his hands on what remained of Jeremy's thighs.

“Anything!” Ryan cried desperately, tears falling from his scarred eyes, “I’ll take fucking anything! Hit me! Hate me! Hurt me!”

Jeremy looked away from the begging, looking at the mess and feeling in his gut that the mess will have to be cleaned but by god he didn’t have the motivation too. He watched gravy drip down the wall as Ryan squeezed his hands, pressing them limp to his face.

“Please Jeremy! Cry, laugh, roar. Throw something, punch me, fucking anything! Anything but this! I can’t-I can’t stand it anymore please!  _ please _ ...” Ryan’s face was wet and Jeremy looked back to his hand on Ryan's cheeks, seeing the liquid spill over his skin as Ryan sobbed to him, “It’s like your dead. You’re a zombie baby, and I can’t- … You’re not meant to be like this. I don’t care if you decide to leave me, but Jeremy, please, you can’t go on like this. You’ll waste away.  _ please Jeremy _ ... Live?”

“I am living-” Jeremy started to point out logically but Ryan scoffed, pushing himself up to his feet, throwing Jeremy's hands back into their owners lap.

“Bah! You call this living? You watch tv all day, never leave the house, ignore all our friends. Hell, you wouldn’t get up and eat if I didn’t tell you too! It’s like your sitting on the couch just waiting to keel over.”

“So what if I am.” Jeremy shrugged looking up at a man who would never look at him again, “What does it matter to you?”

“ _ Everything! _ ” Ryan gasped, “You are my everything. I love you jeremy.”

“You  _ loved _ me.” Jeremy corrected, the first hint of emotion in his voice. Scorn, but Ryan would take anything at this point, “You loved the  _ idea _ of me. And when that idea shattered, you went running. You only came back for Geoff, admit it.”

“I don’t” Ryan snapped at him, “I came back for YOU, you numb asshole! I didn’t even know you’d fucked that particular pooch till I was already on the plane here.”

Jeremy blinked, than with a stretch of energy and will, tore his eyes from the congealing food back to Ryan's face. Ryan was red and splotchy, tears on his face mixing into the scruff of his jaw and chin. His eyes were wide open but not focused on him, permanently fixed wherever they happen to be looking. His fists were screwed up and his shoulders trembled.

Jeremy got asked by those in the Know, what he was doing with Vagabond. How could he be battle buddies with someone he couldn’t trust? What he could never say back, was that he did trust Ryan because Ryan was a horrible liar when face to face. Jeremy spotted no lie now.

His heart twisted and an ache begun in his chest as he stood as well, “You… You were already coming back?”

“Yeeess!” Ryan groaned, than his hand connected with Jeremy's side and followed it up to his shoulder, “I was coming back because leaving you was the biggest most cowardly mistake I’d ever made.”

Jeremy's chest ached as he finally started to  _ feel _ again. Ryan pressed his other hand to Jeremy's chest, over his heart and Jeremy grabbed it, squeezing it, holding it there as he bowed his head. With feeling came the pain.

“You’re just saying that. Cause you feel guilty.” Jeremy gasped, trying to recover the safety of his numb self. Ryan startled him however when he laughed wetly and brought Jeremy in for a large hug. Jeremy let himself be held, as he listened.

“Remember? That was our problem in the beginning of this mess! I thought you didn’t love me. That you were pretending to make me feel better because you felt guilty about my sight.” Ryan's head dropped into the roughened stubble on Jeremy's head, his hair slowly growing, Ryan's voice dropping to a whisper, “But, I do feel guilty. I caused you to suffer. I never want you to suffer because of me again. I Love you, and I want you, warts and all.”

“I don’t have any warts.” Jeremy said stupidly, his mind not catching up and saying the first thing that came to mind, “But I am less than the man you married.”

“Oh Jeremy…” Ryan cupped his face, turning it up to look at him. Jeremy could almost convince himself Ryan could see him, his heart thudding painfully fast, like the first time Ryan had lifted his mask mid heist to make out with him then and there as bullets flew over their heads, “You are so much more. You may have lost your leg, but you’ve gained so much. I never was one into foot fetishes anyway.”

Jeremy laughed once but was so much more than he had in months. He felt his face was damp and he grabbed Ryan's cheeks, pulling him down into a salty flavoured kiss, “Ryan… Ryan you’re ridiculous buddy.”

Ryan kissed him back, arms wrapped around him as they stood in the ruin of their dinner table. Neither cared about the food they were stepping in, the ruckus that had been made. They were connecting again, with each other, no more fears to hold them back. 

\--

“I’m home.” Jeremy called as he walked in, shopping bag in his free hand, his other using his cane. He wasn’t looking up, but down, trying to balance with his new equilibrium as his managed to bring the heavy bag into the kitchen and set it down on the bench. Only than did he turn around, realising he hadn’t heard an answer from Ryan.

“Babe?” Jeremy looked around the feature wall into the loungeroom to find it quiet and empty. All the lights were off but light came from the afternoon sun coming in from the floor to ceiling windows showing no Ryan.

Fear twisted through his gut, Jeremy's breath coming in anxiously fast as his mind threw up what it had learnt. It had learnt what it was like to be abandoned, tossed aside. His heart remembered too well what that was like and it stuttered now, a ripple along the fault line where it had once been broken. Jeremy pressed a hand to his chest to try and calm himself but now his voice trembled, “Ryan? You upstairs?” 

_ He’s gone. He left. He ran for it. Ran far from you and your broken body.  _

The steps shook under him, his false leg suddenly unsteady, his good leg numb. Jeremy took the stairs up carefully, listening to the heavy beat of his heart in his ears, the negative thoughts swirling around him preparing for the attack.

_ Why should he stay? What have you to offer? You’ve nothing. You ARE nothing. _

“Ryan?” Jeremy opened the bedroom door, his voice breaking as he forced himself to look in. An empty bed broke him. He couldn’t do it again, he couldn’t sleep alone anymore. He would die this time. Even if he had to do it himself-

“Jeremy! You’re home already?” Jeremy's eyes flicked up to the balcony door which Ryan had open. He was sitting on a balcony chair and in his lap was a acoustic guitar, in purple wood and by his hand a polish rag and tin.

“Ryan.” this time his voice was nothing but a breath of relief and he all but fell against the doorframe, stopping himself from falling as life rushed back into his body. Ryan couldn’t see him of course, but he heard the sound of the wood creak, the air billowing quickly from Jeremy's lungs and the clack of the cane hitting the carpet.

“Jeremy? Are you ok?” he asked, a mirror of the anxiety Jeremy had been in just moments ago. He put the guitar aside and got up, coming towards him quickly. A brush of the chair with his fingers told him where to turn, fingers barely raised to make sure the door was still open. Then Ryan trailed fingers along the wall till he felt the doorframe and he knelt down, instinctively reaching out and after a slight touch of collarbone, raised his hand higher to take Jeremy's chin, “Jere? Please, what is it?”

Jeremy burst into wet laughter as he shook his head and let his head fall forward against Ryan's chest, “Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is right.” Ryan was surprised at the move but he let his hand fall to the curls that had grown back on his partner and carefully pet him.

“Oh good. In that case, would you like to come out there? I got a surprise for you, though I guess you saw it.” Ryan teased lightly, still concerned but obviously happy that Jeremy seemed so happy to have him near. Jeremy shook his head again and cupped Ryan's cheek in return.

“In a minute. First I wanna do something.” He told him as he studied Ryan's face. Though the eyes were robbed of colour, Ryan's eyebrows were as expressive as ever, quirking slightly.

“Oh? What’s that?”

Jeremy’s lips came down hard on Ryan's, the hardest kiss yet since they made up. Since moving back in together, kisses, if they kissed at all, were comforting brushes. Assurances of love. Sharing and closeness. 

This… This was their wedding night again.

Ryan was taken by surprise which is what got them to the bed, blind and lame but wrapped in each others arms. Ryan's back hit the mattress and his hands were around Jeremy's waist as Jeremy's were around his neck. He cushioned his partner who’s lips parted and tongue flicked out as his body molded to Ryan's.

“Jeremy.” Ryan breathed his name and Jeremy chuckled, moving his lips open again, this time without tongue but sucking Ryan's lip in for a moment. It had been so long, Ryan couldn’t help but respond, pressing back, moving a hand to cup Jeremy's head, wanting him close Jeremy didn’t seem to mind, wiggling higher onto Ryan's body, his false leg hard against the side of Ryan's calf.

Jeremy stiffened as pain jolted through the stump and hissed out of his lips. Ryan's responses slowed to a stop and Jeremy ducked his head against Ryan's throat as they caught their breath. Jeremy's hands had turned into hard fists in Ryan's hair from frustration, the soothing understanding that Ryan gave making the frustration just that much sharper.

“It’s ok, we probably should-”   
  
“Don’t you want me?” Jeremy cut off the excuses, mumbling into Ryan's skin. He felt Ryan's rushing pulse against his lips as Ryan’s chest rumbled with the deepness of his voice.

“Of Course I do… but were both still healing. Best not put ourselves back in the clinic hmm?” Jeremy wanted to object but Ryan, the dirty cheater, pressed his lips to Jeremy's ear, “I promise, if you want to reclaim that part of our relationship, we can work towards it… But for now, the guitar is yours.”

Ryan could feel the interest Jeremy had by the small twitch he gave, the sitting up slightly in his arms. Ryan chuckled and gently rolled jeremy off him, “Get comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

Jeremy sighed and pulled himself to the head of the bed, reaching down and detaching the straps holding his false leg to the stump. Another sigh, this one with relief as he set the leg aside and unwound the padding. The sight of his stump no longer filled him with hate for life, rather a deep sadness for what once was. It was healing nicely and the Doc said that as his mind grew used to the fact it was gone, the phantom pains should fade.

“Jeremy?” Ryan had come back but wasn’t sure where on the bed Jeremy was positioned nor could he feel him out with his hands full of beautiful guitar. Jeremy pet the bed loudly so Ryan knew where he was.

“Here, Rye.” Jeremy held out his hands, gently taking the guitar from Ryan as he sat and scooted back so his back was against the head of the bed. Jeremy cradled the guitar in his hands, running his fingers over the smooth finish, admiring the colour, plucking a string for the sweet sound.

Ryan smiled to hear it, hoping Jeremy was smiling, “I thought, since we’re spending a lot of time at home these days, why not start up again? If you wanted to of course. I just know music is something you enjoy and we didn’t have much time for it when we were working.”

Jeremy’s eyes watered and he looked up to Ryan's face. Ryan, who was faced more the bottom of the bed than him, but it was clear from his expression he was listening intently. Jeremy didn’t have any words for what this meant to him. Ryan had thought of him, had known how useless and bored he felt sitting around all day. Had given him something to do besides mourn his old life and body.

Ryan smiled when he heard Jeremy check the tuning than start to play. He was rusty, a few strums struck a little wrong, but Ryan didn’t care. He was listening to Jeremy sing.

“I’ll be seeing you, in all those old familiar places.” Jeremy started, one of the oldest songs he knew, something his teacher taught him when he first started out, “That this heart of mine embraces, all day through”

Ryan's eyes stung as he started to well up with feeling. Jeremy's voice was his world, painting him a picture behind the dark of his sight. Images of their old haunts; resting on a car hood watching the fireworks together, sitting on their balcony talking through the night, the bright colours of the bakery as they fetched breakfast. 

Jeremy had closed his own eyes, putting as much feeling into his voice as possible as he sung, “I’ll be seeing you, through every summer's day. In everything that’s light and gay,” He smiled as he heard Ryan give a wet laugh, making Jeremy's heart lighter, “I’ll always think of you that way.”

Ryan's laugh turned choked, tears spilling down as he slowly slid sideways to rest his head on jeremy's shoulder. He felt the movements of jeremy's hands across the strings as he strummed that poignant tune. How he ever though he could heal without Jeremy, Ryan didn’t know. 

“I’ll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new….” Jeremy's hands stilled as he pressed his head down to rest on ryan's, singing without the instrument, “I’ll be looking at the moon….”

Ryan closed his eyes, seeing Jeremy's face in his mind's eye as he took Jeremys hand from the guitar and pressed it to his lips, singing the last line with him.

“I’ll be seeing you….”

Sight, movement, who cared? They had lost but they hadn’t lost what was important. With Ryan, Jeremy could still move, could still achieve. With Jeremy, Ryan still could see, if not with sight, but with his mind. Ryan would be there for Jeremy forever, would lose his sight a thousand times over, his hearing, his hands, whatever it took to be here. 

“Thank you Rye. For the gift.” Jeremy murmured after a long silence. Ryan smiled against the back of Jeremy's hand, a silent chuckle making his body shift.

“No thanks necessary. You paid for it already.” that comment stung, Jeremy shuddering, his mind turning back to his missing leg, the depression, always hovering starting to fall- “that kiss was amazing.”

Jeremy was shocked than a startled laugh spilt out. Ryan joined him, the laughter a dam breaking, the guitar being slide aside as they collapsed against each other, howling with exuberance. They didn’t laugh anymore because something was mildly funny but more because they could, because they enjoyed the sound of it, and because they were together.

In this moment, though both still had their demons, their struggles… In this moment they were truly happy again.

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna attempt Fortnightly (every two weeks) updates here, so please no matter when you read, please kudos and comment which will remind me people do like the rubbish i write and I'll keep attempting to stay ahead of you guys lol  
> Also i love to yell about head-cannons so there's that too, find me on tumblr Nescamonster there too!  
> This updates regardless as long as I can work at it but if you feeling generous and like to help me out here's my Kofi link!  
> http://ko-fi.com/nescamonster


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